Masquerade and Revelations

 

 
Post by Taria on 07/29/2004 at 11:55:03
 
Averdor, Masquerade Ball on the occasion of the Princess Shauna’s 16th Birthday

 
I gazed over the sea of people in the grand ballroom at the Palace of the Waves. A pretentious name, to be sure, but one that was slapped on it during the rein of the first King, and it just stuck thereafter despite being meaningless. Today, with the nobles in their bejeweled gowns and suits moving as one, dipping and rising in the throes of some formal dance, the name did indeed seem to be fitting. I sighed and used the decorative fan I held to cool myself; I had begged off dancing this measure on account of being overheated. The Ball was being held in my foster sister’s honor, but it seemed that an endless line of male nobility awaited a chance to dance with me without concern for my possible weariness.
 
I adjusted the formal gown, attempting to find a comfortable position - but all to no avail. I mentally cursed the gown. Granted, while on the seamstress’ model, it had been gorgeous – yards of flowing metallic silks and cloth-of-gold, all in the shades of the sunset, with my favorite bronze predominant. The mask was bejeweled and sprinkled with diamond dust, and represented the rising sun itself – the outer wings shading to the blue of a morning sky. Despite its beauty, the outfit was really not my style; but it was a masquerade ball, after all. That was the point.
 
I wondered briefly if any of my family were to show. Deirdre, I felt, would not. Our most current conversation was three years distantly past, and had been terminated by me in a most rude manner. Benedict was off in distant lands, and Corwin… I turned my mind away from the thought.
 
The fan did little to cool me, and I folded it with a snap and laid it on the table beside me. I was seated in an out-of-the-way corner, having managed to ditch the line of noble’s sons and rather hoping not to be noticed again. I had agreed only reluctantly to attend this Ball, on the sole behalf of my foster parents and sister – who, unlike me, loved such elaborate events such as these. Perhaps I wouldn’t be missed…. It was just when I was considering the possibility of slipping out of the Hall unnoticed that I saw him.
 
He was dressed all in black, with a rose embroidered in silver emblazoned on the back of his cloak. My breath caught in my throat. It couldn’t be. His cloak did not have that device shown on the back…. He turned, showing striking green eyes from behind a half-mask of silver, matching the interior of the cloak. A silvery scarf trailed from the hilt of the sword at his hip. His eyes met mine unerringly from across the room. He smiled that mischievous smile I had so adored in my youth, and strode toward me.
 
I had hardly realized I had risen until he bowed before me. “Milady,” he said in that heartbreakingly familiar voice. He kissed my hand in the courtly manner, and quirked a smile. “May I have this dance?”
 
I was so stunned I had not realized that the previous dance had finished. I nodded, and he swept me out onto the dance floor.
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 
The dance finally ended, and we drifted to a semi-private alcove, collecting wineglasses from a servant en route. We sat, he and I, and he watched the dance while I watched him. Finally I broke the silence with a question. He simply smiled again; "To the end of Gaia and back," he quoted a line from a ballad, one popular in Averdor long ago.
 
"Why are you not off dancing with one of the beautiful ladies of the Court?" I inquired, sipping my glass. "None could ever resist you, e'er you deigned to visit."
 
“Shall I say that none could compare in either grace or beauty with you, dear niece?”
 
“Let us not,” I laughed, “And not say we did. But since you refuse to explain where you have been – will you say where you are going?”
 
I watched his smile fade and a certain hardness creep over his features. “To Amber – to treat with a brother as he has with me.” I recognize the look; I’d seen it myself in the mirror once.
 
I set my glass on the end table. “Has Benedict infuriated you so, Corwin?” I asked softly.
 
He glanced at me, the hard look fading into surprise. “Benedict? No… ah.” A certain realization then occurred to him. “An uncle you haven’t met, Killa, and with all luck you never will.” He rose, also laying aside his glass. “But come – the night is young, the music lively. Let us talk of happier things.” He drew me once again onto the dance floor.
 
We danced to no few tunes that night, once again laughing and talking of olden times. At some point in the night, we danced a lively jig that involved switching partners several times. I saw him draw the comely daughter of Lord Jorin off the floor, and later she drew him out of the Hall. I smiled. Corwin was back, indeed.
 
But my thoughts remained troubled. Amber… once again, the place of my birth was named, and more relatives revealed. But in the morning, Corwin was gone, his horse missing from the stables. Once again, my questions were left unanswered.

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