“You should know that I am not a spiritual man,” Alexander informed her, in polite a tone as he could manage.
She looked like a crone, just as they always did. Hunched over, in a tattered old cloak with a haggard face. Her eyes looked sunken and were icy white.
“You mean that you don’t believe,” she said. Though she looked old, her voice was strangely high and youthful. She sounded like a woman of twenty.
Alexander kept a steady countenance. “Yes, that’s what I mean.”
“Well then you needn’t think much of this,” she said, and gestured towards the seat closest to him.
Yes, he supposed that was true.
He took his seat. “I’m here because-” He tried to explain that his friend had forced him, but she interjected.
“I know. He’s a difficult chap to say no to, isn’t he?”
Alexander opened his mouth to say that that was an understatement, but the words stuck in his throat. His brows wrinkled, but before he could ask her how she knew of Julius, she waved her hand as if it wasn’t of any importance.
“Now,” she said, which shut him up quickly enough. Without asking, she took hold of his hand and pulled it to the center of the table. She turned it over and looked at his palm.
Her fingers were uncomfortably warm.
A warmth that seemed to spread up his forearm, to his bicep, to his chest and face. He felt a droplet of sweat bead on his forehead. It was a cool night. No reason to sweat. He would have dabbed at his forehead with his handkerchief, if it wouldn’t have given her the satisfaction of thinking him nervous.
“Mmm,” she hummed.
He wouldn’t ask her what she saw. Alexander sighed quietly, feeling increasingly impatient.
“Just as I suspected,” she added, with a slow nod. She was following the lines on his palm with her fingertip.
He would not engage. Not even slightly. “Are we finished?”
“The reading is finished,” she said, but she did not let go of his hand. “But I have not yet told you what it says.”
Alexander started to stand, but she tightened her grip on his hand to keep him from moving. He frowned down at her and gave a tug, but she held tight. Tight as a man’s grip. He didn’t yank any harder, because her hand looked so brittle that he was afraid he’d break it. “Would you release me, please?” He said. His voice was tighter now, but no less steady.
“Do you want to know?”
“You may tell me if you wish.”
“But do you want to know?”
A simple question, but it felt like an important one. If all of this was deception, would he want to hear the lie?
If it somehow struck a chord, could it change his perspective on matters of importance? And if it was true – in some mad world where fairies and dragons roamed the earth – would he want to know then?
He wasn’t a stupid man. He knew the cost of knowledge and he knew the cost of lies too.
He pursed his lips, then nodded. “Very well, but be quick about it.”
Alexander stole a glance over his shoulder. He was thankful he was masked. The prospect of someone other than Julius seeing him now was not a pleasant one.
“Alexander,” the crone said.
He looked down at her. “I… I did not tell you my name.” A strange feeling slithered through his chest.
“By midnight tonight, you will meet the love of your life.”
Drivel. That notion shook off his momentary awe. Julius must have come in before him and told her his name. That was all. And this was just the sort of trick Julius would play on him. He’d been teasing him about sowing his oats incessantly. And now this crone was telling him he’d meet a woman.
That was no coincidence.
Alexander suddenly looked terribly bored.
“Is that all?”
“Do you think this good news?”
“It does sound rather cheery.”
The crone smiled, slowly, in such a way that each of her teeth were revealed one by one. “Masked fortresses, fickle feelings, poor choices, rich pockets and heavy hearts.”
When she said that, his brow wrinkled slightly. He was staring down at her. Her hand was pale on top of his. The purest white, like snow. His eyes moved up, to look at his arm. He could see the hairs rising, as if she was commanding them to.
He felt cold, and snatched his hand away.
At last, she let go of him.
Alexander rubbed at his hand to revive it. His skin was a sheet of ice.
“You have quite the talent for deception, don’t you?” He muttered.
At that, she smiled like an impish child and put her hand out towards him expectantly. He blinked, then expelled a hefty breath. Shaking his head, he retrieved a coin from his pocket and put it in the center of her palm. “Extortion,” he mumbled.
“Enjoy your evening, Alexander,” she said, as she flipped the coin up into the air and caught it. As nimble as a soldier. He half-wanted to snap at her that she ought to refer to him by his title. It felt terribly strange to hear his Christian name on her lips. A woman he did not know, but despised a little nevertheless.
He was still rubbing his hand as he stepped outside.
Julius was upon him in an instant. “Did she tell you that you’d sow your wild oats tonight, my friend?”
“You know very well what she said.”
Julius frowned. “I know nothing of the sort. What did she say?”
“Do not play games with me. A very funny joke,” he remarked, without enthusiasm. “Now will you let me enjoy the fair without interference?”
Julius’ face indicated that he was going to press the subject, but something caught his eye before he could. The words stopped in his mouth. “My, my,” he said, and put his hand out to stop Alexander walking. “That, my friend, is why we have come.”
He gestured to a girl in a royal blue dress. She too was masked. Before Alexander could speak a word, Julius was already walking away briskly.
Poor girl. Alexander pitied her.
He saw Julius reach her and lean against one of the pillars of the stall the girl was looking at. She looked taken aback, even with most of her face covered by the mask. Her posture was stiff and her chin was held up high. A challenge Julius wouldn’t be able to resist.
“Should I rescue her?” The voice came from beside him. A high, light voice. Alexander looked at the woman standing beside him. It was meant to be a polite, cursory look.
But when he saw her, he stopped.
He didn’t blink. Just stared at her. She was masked, just like him. With springy, blonde curls spilling over her shoulders and a pair of lips so rosy that he imagined them to be housing a full garden of colors.
And then he laughed.
The lady blinked at him. “Have I said something funny?”
“No, no,” he answered, through laughter. His amusement was so fierce that he had to wipe at his watering eyes. She must think him quite mad.
“Then what has you laughing so?” She was smiling too, from ear to ear, and looked as if she was about to laugh too.
“It is only,” he began, struggling to get the words out. “Only that you appear to be wearing the same mask as my companion over there.”
She looked towards Julius, who was still doing his utmost to persuade the lady to talk to him. Alexander could see that the girl was entirely unsmiling, but Julius was not yet fazed.
Seeing him, she laughed too. They laughed together. Two masked strangers, laughing until their guts hurt.
“I am sorry,” he said. “I do not know what has come over me.”
“He looks like a peacock!” Her cheeks were pink with humor.
“Yes! That’s what I said!”
“And he still wore it out?”
“He said that that was his intention. A peacock among pigeons.”
“But there is something terrible about this.”
“There is?”
“Yes,” she looked up at him, smiling broadly. “I th
ink he might well wear it better than I do. And if he looks like a peacock, what do I look like?”
“Charming,” he replied, emphatically and without reservation. That wasn’t like him at all. He was a highly reserved fellow. He blushed, then laughed again nervously. “I think it looks rather lovely on you,” he clarified. “Which makes it look all the more ridiculous on him. Perhaps he will buy a gown next.”
“Oh dear,” she said. “I do hope he does not wear that better than me. That would be a great shame.”
Their laughter quietened into happy smiles.
For a moment, they stood beside one another without speaking, as if they’d been friends forever.
“Forgive me,” he said, when he realized that they hadn’t spoken for several moments and were just watching Julius and the girl. “Is that lady he is harassing a friend of yours?”
“She is a friend of mine, but I wouldn’t worry yourself for her. She can hold her own well enough.”
“Yes, I can see that.” Julius looked like he was becoming frustrated. Alexander could see that he was frowning. “He is not used to being turned down.”
“No, I imagine not. He’s quite a handsome gentleman.”
Alexander looked at her and wondered if she thought he was a handsome gentleman too. It wasn’t something he would usually care about. But he realized that he wanted her to think him handsome, more than anything. Because he thought she was handsome. He pulled at his collar. It felt suddenly tight. Yes, she was very handsome indeed. Her eyes were deep emerald caverns that seemed to swallow him whole.
“Yes,” Alexander answered. “The ladies do seem to think so.”
The lady did not answer for a little while. They were both watching Julius and the girl. When Alexander next looked at her, she was smiling softly. Before he could ask what pleased her so, she said, “She does not often have fun.”
Alexander looked at the girl and quirked a brow. “She does not look like she’s having fun,” he remarked.
She laughed. “No,” she conceded. “But it is always gratifying to have a gentleman take an interest.”
“Then I am sure that you must be gratified in that regard a great deal.”
She blinked up at him, as if she was surprised. Then her cheeks went pink and she looked away. “I thank you for saying so.”
He wondered if her modesty was sincere. Though it seemed to be, he couldn’t imagine a girl like her ever getting a moment of peace from gentleman.
“Why the mask?” He wondered.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
He hadn’t thought of how he’d answer this question, so he chose to remain as close to the truth as possible. He shrugged. “I thought it would be nice to pretend to be someone else for an evening.”
Again, she looked at him like he’d shocked her. “I thought the very same thing.”
This surprised him. “I cannot imagine why you would not want to be yourself.”
“I could say the same for you.”
He smiled a little awkwardly. “You do not know me.”
“And you do not know me.”
He inclined his head in concession and she did the same, with an amused smile. “Then perhaps we might know one another a little better by the end of the evening.”
It was a bold statement. Particularly considering he couldn’t tell her anything of any real importance without giving himself away. Or so he thought.
“I would like that,” she said, after a thoughtful moment. “Though I would like to maintain my play at being someone else tonight, so I am afraid I cannot tell you my name.”
“A perfect arrangement. I would like to do the same. But then what shall I call you?”
She made a musing sound. “I think I’d very much like you to choose.”
Alexander’s brow rose a little. “You’d like me to choose your name?”
“For tonight.”
He paused, before conceding. “Very well. Would you step back a moment?”
She did so. She put her arms out and did a twirl. Her dress was a stunning green and her tiny features made her look like a wood nymph. But no, she was too regal for that. There was something so very fine about her.
“Fairy Queen,” he said, thoughtlessly. It sounded absurd once it was out of his mouth. She stopped twirling and he wondered if he’d insulted her. Before he could apologize, she smiled.
“Oh, I love it! I have always wanted to be a fairy, you know.”
Her smile was contagious. “I am glad you like it.”
“Now it is your turn.” She gestured with her finger for him to turn. It made him laugh a little nervously. He took a step back and turned slowly, letting her take him in.
It made him queerly self-conscious. His childhood had felt like a physical test he’d always failed at. And as such, he wasn’t especially comfortable with his own body. He wished he was more like Julius, who flaunted his faults like trophies.
He stopped turning.
“No, no,” she said. “Keep going.”
He did so. By the fourth turn, he wasn’t embarrassed anymore. But by the sixth turn, he caught sight of the lady with her hand over her mouth, muffling her giggle.
“You have played me a fool, you minx!” He laughed. He stopped, feeling dizzy.
“I could not resist! But I have a name for you.”
“Do tell.”
She closed the distance between them. The dizziness made her feel closer than she was. He could see every one of her eyelashes, spinning and spinning in his vision though he’d stopped moving.
“The Black Knight,” she said.
Chapter 5
Lady Marianne Purcell, Daughter of Baron Westlake
She’d pretended to need time to think on an appropriate name for him, but the truth was that she’d thought him a black knight when she’d first seen him from across the fair. It was his attire, which was largely black, but also his wonderfully deep eyes. And an air about him, more than anything, that was reserved and mysterious.
Marianne had seen the gentleman and his friend as she’d been on her way back to Becky’s side, having crossed the fair to see a particularly wonderful stall selling jewelry made from dried leaves. She’d kept herself from making another purchase, to prevent her cover from being blown, but had touched every single piece with utter awe.
When she’d seen the gentleman’s friend approach Becky, she’d stopped in her tracks and observed them with a slight smile and a quirk of her brow. She could just imagine how incensed Becky would become if the gentleman didn’t give up soon.
With a shake of her head, she considered returning to the jewelry stall while she waited, but then she spotted the other gentleman. He too stood still, watching the pair. And, masked or not, she could see that he was handsome. His wide shoulders tapered down into a slim waist. He looked firm and broad, but he didn’t stand like a giant. Rather, his stance was almost humble. As if he didn’t truly know himself at all.
This should be the type of man who swaggered, yet his very posture made it seem as if he thought himself invisible.
She couldn’t resist.
This was why she’d come, wasn’t it? To make adventure for herself. To talk to strangers. To make friends.
When he first blinked down at her, she was struck by his eyes. They were green like hers, but deeper in color, and they sparkled with hidden thoughts and feelings. Within a few moments, they were laughing and his laugh was… intoxicating to her.
“The Black Knight?” He answered, in a musing voice. “I rather like that. May I ask the inspiration?”
“Your coat,” she remarked and touched the sleeve. It was black velvet. “And you look a bit like a knight, you know.”
He tilted his head. “I do?”
“Yes,” she smiled up at him. “Very strong.”
She wasn’t sure why, but this seemed to take him aback. He looked as if she’d struck him across the face, which made her frown. Before she could ask him what troubled him, he cleared his th
roat and said, “You are too kind.”
He smiled awkwardly and returned to looking out across the fair, towards Becky and his gentleman friend.
“They’re gone,” he said, rather suddenly and with a frown on his face.
“Gone?” She said. She followed his eye with hers. “Well… they can’t have gone far.” A strange thing though. It wasn’t like Becky to allow a stranger to lead her anywhere. “Shall we walk and look for them?”
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