♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝♝
[Rough Draft] Chapter 45: A Banquet of Masks
“And finally, I would like to thank all those noble men and women who helped establish the first of many orphanages raised by this charity,” Eleanora continued as she raised her glass in a salute to end her speech. “To his Majesty, our future King, Nicholas Havardur; my cousin, Earl Percy Hawthorne; my dear mother, Viscountess Isabella Kensington; the Marchioness of Somerset, Lady Hana; and of course, our ever-reclusive investor, Sir Frost.”
“She completely left out your name,” Ivy whispered in disbelief as she lowered her raised glass.
Carina covered a laugh behind her hand as she raised her glass of champagne towards the royal banquet table.
“I hope that other nobles will follow their generous example,” Eleanora finished as she tipped her glass and brought it to her lips.
“I believe she thanked me, whether she knew it or not,” the Duchess murmured before taking a drink alongside Hana and the rest of the nobles.
The guests resumed their eating and drinking, though most had finished their desserts at this point. Carina watched as Nicholas reached over to grasp Eleanora’s wrist and whisper something in the crown princess’s ear that added a spark of anger to Eleanora’s amber eyes as she glared pointedly at Nicholas, then withdrew her hand.
‘They’re honestly too much for me to keep up with anymore,’ Carina reflected. As much as she wanted to enjoy the ball with Ivy and Hana, the Duchess could not shake the frustration of her premature defeat. ‘As long as Nicholas does the right thing and closes down the Marquess exploitive ring of child-sex trade—I suppose I can still count it a win, even if Borghese lives.’
‘When did you become so blood-thirsty?’ Kirsi’s voice whispered tauntingly.
‘There’s a difference between killing for pleasure and seeing a man brought to justice for his crimes,’ Carina refuted quickly.
‘And are you—going to let the Marquess walk away without paying for his crimes?’
Carina twisted the stem of the wine glass between her fingers and sucked in her bottom lip worriedly.
‘What if he continues to come after you, Ivy, and even Hana?’ Kirsi pressed.
‘He only came after us because I was digging into his illegal sex trade. If Nicholas covers that up—I’m no longer a threat to him.’
‘And if Nicholas allows the Marquess to keep trading children for power and money?’
‘I won’t sit by and watch children be used and abused like disposable objects.’ Carina narrowed her eyes as she lifted her glass and finished the remnants of her drink.
‘On that, we both agree,’ Kirsi replied with a note of approval. ‘Perhaps it is time to consider Earl Percy seriously as an ally.’
The Duchess turned her gaze towards the Earl’s table and found Percy in quiet discussion with Marquess Winslet. On the Earl’s other side, Lady Serilda turned and caught Carina’s gaze. The Marchioness smiled as she rose from the table and wandered over towards the Duchess with her drink in hand.
‘What does she want now?’ Carina wondered as she handed her glass to the servants already clearing away finished plates and dishes.
“I hope you’re not too disappointed in how things turned out,” Serilda murmured as she raised her glass in greeting to the Duchess and her friends.
“Are you referring to the Hunting Competition or something else, Marchioness?” Carina asked pointedly as Serilda wiped crumbs off the verdant-green silk tablecloth and then sat on the edge.
“Perhaps both, Lady Kirsi,” Serilda replied as she turned her moss-agate green eyes towards the crown prince and offered Nicholas a coy smile. Carina followed the Marchioness’s gaze and felt a sense of unease at the naked, lustful look that Nicholas was giving Serilda.
“What have you—” Carina blinked as Serilda dipped two fingers into Carina’s wine glass and then sucked them clean. “What are you doing?”
“Offering some tips to my junior,” Serilda relied with a laugh that drew the gaze of several lords from around the room. The Marchioness smiled at Carina’s frown of disapproval and set down her own glass. “You’re far too young and pretty to get your hands dirty with the blood of politics, Duchess.”
Carina scoffed. “Are you patronizing me now?”
“Especially when there are others who would happily fight your battles for you.”
The Duchess blinked and glanced towards the Earl. Percy had finished his conversation and was now watching the two of them with a worried expression.
“The Duchess doesn’t need others to fight her battles,” Hana interjected as she stared at the Marchioness with pointed dislike. “Did your cousin send you over here to appeal to Lady Kirsi on his behalf?”
“Not at all,” Serilda replied with an overly sweet smile. “No, this was just my way of asking you to take pity on him.”
Carina raised an incredulous brow. “Pity?”
The Marchioness leaned across the table to tuck a loose curl of ash-brown hair behind Carina’s ear. “My cousin can’t help himself when it comes to you, Lady Kirsi. He is not someone who loves and trusts others willingly. I know he has made mistakes, but as strong as he is—Percy is helpless and inexperienced when it comes to matters of the heart.”
“I am not someone who trusts easily either,” Carina replied bluntly. “And I find it even harder to forgive—let alone trust—someone who tried to manipulate me in the way he did.”
Serilda sighed heavily as she leaned closer still and whispered into Carina’s ear. “If you doubt his sincerity, then test him yourself. Ask him for anything you want, Lady Kirsi. His ambitions, his power, his heart, his very life—” The Marchioness pulled back, and Carina noted a flicker of resentment behind the beautiful noblewoman’s moss-agate green eyes. “Just—put him out of his misery.”
With that parting plea, Serilda picked up her glass and turned back in the direction she had come, swaying her hips provocatively. The Earl and Lord Eustice both rose to pull out the Marchioness’s chair, and Serilda laughed again as she accepted Captain Eustice’s offer while Percy stepped to the side and turned his winter-grey eyes towards Carina.
“It would be better if you stayed away from the Earl and Marchioness,” Hana murmured worriedly as she placed a hand over Carina’s. “I do not trust either of them—or their god.”
“Veles?” Carina murmured and shivered as she recalled the figure in dark robes, with burning red eyes, surrounded by crows that she had seen in the field with Beaumont.
“Your Majesty, Your Highness, Lords, and Ladies!” Viscount Rykard called out as he rose from his seat at the royal banquet table. “If you would join me outside in the garden, I have prepared a display of fireworks to entertain us while this room is better arranged for dancing.”
“Fireworks!” Ivy whispered excitedly as she and the other nobles rose to their feet as Nicholas stood and offered an arm to both Eleanora and Priscilla. The Viscount led the royal family towards the glass doors, which servants opened ahead of them.
“Some fresh air would certainly be lovely,” Hana murmured as she took Carina’s arm while the Duchess offered her free hand to Ivy.
‘It’s been ages since I last saw fireworks,’ Carina mused as they followed the crowd. ‘I wonder what they look like in a world with magic.’
As the guests made their way down into the garden, a line of knights appeared that lit prepared torches around a marble framed, rectangular lake with two granite fountains. Three chairs were prepared at the bottom of the steps for Nicholas, Eleanora, and Priscilla. The rest of the nobles were forced to stand or sit on the grass.
Carina, Hana, and Ivy moved to a corner of the lawn as they watched servants move about the edge of the man-made lake with candles.
Hana leaned closer to Carina and whispered gently, “Do you remember the fireworks we watched together in your palace by the sea?”
Carina smiled back at the Viscount as the memory of salty-sea air, and beautiful lights flickered in her memory. ‘No—Kirsi’s memory.’ The Duchess glanced down at Hana’s hands wrapped tightly around her arm and felt a moment’s jealousy for the Scarlet Witch, who had lived numerous lives while being adored and even revered by so many people.
‘That child is still in love with that version of me,’ Kirsi observed quietly as Carina faced forward to where the first of the fireworks streaked upwards with a whistle into the dark night sky. ‘She has yet to realize that I was only using her to manipulate Jericho and Ramiel.’
An explosion of gunpowder and purple, gold, and blue lights streaked across the sky. Carina blinked against the glare as she struggled to comprehend Kirsi’s words. ‘You were using Hana?’
‘Yes. Though I must say, you’ve done a far better job at keeping her next to you. Sadly it won’t last forever.’
‘Why?’
‘Because she’s the Pope’s sister and the next Saint.’
Carina sucked in a sharp breath as all the memories of Krisi dying at the hands of Saints flashed before her eyes. ‘Ivy is—the next Saint?’
‘Shocking, isn’t it? After everything, she’s endured. Her family was slaughtered in not one but two lifetimes. You would think that Ramiel would have awoken her powers or at least restored her memories sooner to spare little Nesta from being victimized. But then again, the Saints were just tools for Ramiel to use to punish the rest of us.’
Carina turned slowly towards Hana, who gazed up at the sky filled with brilliant flashing bursts of color with the expression of childlike wonder.
‘If she becomes a Saint—what happens then?’
‘Ramiel will send her after us, and any other witch he feels has crossed the line.’
“Kirsi,” Hana murmured as she squeezed the Duchess’s arm and pointed to a purple flower blossoming in the sky. “The Lafearian Rose, look—” the Viscountess broke off as she caught a glimpse of Carina’s troubled expression. “What is it? Is something wrong?”
“N-no,” Carina replied hastily with a forced smile. “It’s nothing. I was just—caught up in my own thoughts.”
“Look, there are even dancers,” Ivy called out as she pointed towards three wooden platforms being pulled across the lake with a mingled assortment of men and women dressed in various shades of sheer blue garments that draped over the dancers’ bodies.
“That style of clothes is different,” Carina murmured as she focused on the unfamiliar style.
“It’s a design from Strugna,” Hana murmured uncertainly.
“Strugna?” Carina raised a brow in surprise. “Why would the Viscount—” The Duchess completely forgot her train of thought as the dancers all leapt from the platforms and danced effortlessly across the water without sinking a single inch.
‘They’re—witches?’
Gasps of surprise, shock, and confusion quickly swept through the group of nobles as Viscount Rykard signaled sharply to a knight. Captain Isaac stepped forward from his position behind them and shook his head firmly at Carina’s inquisitive glance.
‘So, they weren’t part of the Viscount’s plans for tonights entertainment,’ Carina pulled gently on Hana and Ivy’s arms as she followed the Knight Captain back towards the Manor as more of Bastiallano’s knights and royal knights stepped forward to form a line between the invited guests and the uninvited, dancing witches.
The Strugna witches carried on with their performance with little to no regard for the knights that cautiously circled the lake and its water fountains. In any other situation, Carina might have enjoyed their masterful display, particularly how they used the water to embellish their movements with kicks and artful sprays that reflected the dying light of the fireworks above them. The dancer’s soaked garments also appeared to change color when exposed to the water, their style quickly shifting from moderately clothed and covered to dripping, skin-tight swimwear.
“What the hell is going on?” Borghese protested furiously as he stepped forward closer to Nicholas and his daughter. “Viscount Rykard, I demand an explanation! Did you invite witches to be part of this celebration?!”
“The Marquess would do well to remember that we are allies with the kingdom of Strugna,” Nicholas retorted sharply as he raised his hand and signaled for the knights to withdraw.
“Your Grace?” Isaac asked as the knights of Bastiallano turned to look in Carina’s direction for approval.
“Let’s follow his Majesty’s lead for now,” Carina murmured with an affirming nod.
The dancers spun, flipped, and danced their way back to the platforms, where they joined hands as the last flickering lights of the fireworks faded out around them. A moment later, all the dancers dived in unison back into the pool, where they completely disappeared.
“They-they’re not resurfacing,” one of the nobles murmured with mingled confusion and alarm.
A soft clap turned the audience back towards the ballroom door, where a nobleman wearing a blue stag mask made his way through the uneasy audience towards the seated royal family.
“I am relieved to see our alliance with the Havardur family is with good cause,” the masked man announced broadly with the barest of nods. “I should hate to think the future King of Lafeara shared his people’s blind hatred towards all witches.”
“Who are you?” Viscount Rykard called out sharply as Beaumont stepped directly into the man’s path with a hand on his sword and a warning looking on his stern face.
“Oh, pardon me, my Lord,” the strange noble replied as he sized up Beaumont with a notably dismissive smile on his lips. “For intruding on your celebration. I merely wished to offer my greeting to his Majesty—from one Crown Prince to another.”
“Crown Prince?” Rykard repeated in stunned confusion.
“Allow me to make my belated introductions.” The masked royal removed his blue stag mask, which on closer inspection appeared to have fins on either side of its cheeks as if replicating a seahorse.
Carina blinked and narrowed her eyes at the face of Jesper, the huntsman who had been a part of her group.
“I am Llyr Alagona, Crown Prince of Strugna,” Jesper said with an elegant bow at the waist that he directed to Nicholas through Beaumont.
“Prince Llyr, please!” Nicholas protested as he rose quickly to his feet. “You are welcome! And we are all honored by such a visit from Lafeara’s oldest ally.”
“But—he—” Rykard appeared at a loss for words as he stared at Jesper’s face.
“Viscount,” Nicholas murmured with a sharp look at the babbling noble. “We must not be rude to an honored guest.”
“No,” Llyr replied with a raised hand. “I’m afraid it is I who should apologize. I have been living under false pretenses as—guest of the Viscount. He has every right to be surprised and confused by my deception.” Llyr turned to Rykard and offered his hand. “I am pleased to say my stay here has enlightened me in many ways to the culture, principles, religion, and governing of Lafeara. Please, accept my hand and my apology.”
Rykard swallowed as he glanced down at Llyr’s hand and then over to Nicholas worriedly.
‘Is he afraid to shake the hand of a witch?’ Carina wondered and laughed as the Viscount choose instead to bow deeply at the waist.
“I am honored that you choose my house, your Highness,” Rykard said without rising. “I can only hope I have done nothing to disparage the honor and reputation of our great kingdom and its royal family.”
“Ahaha!” Llyr chuckled in amusement. “I am surprised you think the demeanor of a mere noble family would have any impact on the reputation of this country’s royal family.”
Rykard straightened and awkwardly cleared his throat, clearly at a loss.
“Ah, but,” Llyr turned swiftly back to Nicholas, who had moved forward to stand beside the less wary Beaumont. “I have come to offer my belated congratulations on your marriage, Crown Prince Nicholas.” Llyr’s seal-gray eyes moved from Eleanora to Priscilla with a glimmer of amusement. “And now it seems I must offer it again.”
“Please,” Nicholas interjected with a raised hand. “We are both princes destined to rule. Is there really any need for titles between us?”
Llyr smiled and nodded. “I appreciate the generous offer, your Majesty, but as you will be King before I claim my crown and throne, I believe it would be discourteous to do so in public.”
“Well, he has an elegant tongue, I must say,” a noble whispered from the lawn near Carina.
“No one said a witch couldn’t have a silver tongue,” replied his female companion.
“But what is he doing here? Why wouldn’t he come for an official visit at the palace?” whispered another.
“Then allow me to insist you join me for a glass of wine and celebrate with us, Prince Llyr,” Nicholas replied determinedly as he stepped forward and placed a hand on the foreign prince’s shoulder. “You did take part in the Hunt with us, did you not.”
“Your Majesty is most generous,” Llyr replied and inclined his head again. “I humbly accept the offer.”
Nicholas turned, somewhat stiffly as he placed a hand against his side, and motioned towards Marchioness Serilda, who close by in the crowd of nobles. “This is Marchioness Serilda Kensington. She will see that you are properly introduced to those of note. Perhaps she will even find you a dancing partner to enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“Another generous offer,” Llyr murmured as he nodded to Serilda, who curtsied in return. “One I must regretfully decline. I have already requested a dance with a lady here tonight, who is the only acquaintance I wish to make among your Majesties many noble subjects.”
“Oh?” A note of disapproval wormed its way into Nicholas’s tone as he slowly lowered his hands. “Might I know the lady’s name?”
Llyr shrugged as he turned and extended his hand towards the group of nobles on the lawn. His seal-gray eyes moved immediately to Carina as he smiled in recognition. “It is, of course, Lady Kirsi Valda. The Duchess whom I had the honor of serving during the Royal Hunt.”
“I knew he’d be trouble,” Captain Isaac muttered under his breath as the nobles all turned towards Carina. “I just didn’t know he’d be so bloody obvious about it.”
Nicholas frowned as he turned carefully to face Carina as well. “Did you—promise your first dance to Prince Llyr, Duchess?”
“I did not,” Carina replied firmly. “His Highness has clearly made a mistake.”
“Indeed so,” Nicholas replied with a faint smirk as he returned his gaze to the still smiling Llyr. “It appears you were mistaken, Prince Llyr. You and the Duchess have just met after all—”
“Oh, but I have been aware of Lady Kirsi for quite some time, your Majesty,” Llyr interjected with a smile that tightened Carina’s grip on her bow. “I have been following her progress with interest since before she gained her new name and title.”
Serilda retreated to stand beside Percy, whose winter-grey eyes were fixated upon the foreign prince with a dangerous glare.
“I do not know what you are referring to, your Highness,” Carina replied stiffly. “I have neither seen nor spoken to you before this hunt.”
“Of course,” Llyr replied with a nod. “Our interactions then were only that of business. I was but a Merchant Banker who responded to your request for trade, and you were cloaked behind your other name—that of Mr. Frost.”