Chapter 10: Masked Strangers

Four days went by. Invitations went out and the masquerade was nearly upon Basharr. Princess Raegan bustled through the corridors, the king's seal always in hand. The courtiers had quickly learned to scatter when she drew near after she conscripted half the guards into her service. They were all to attend the ball in disguise, dressed in the most opulent costumes.

Violet had not escaped the princess's recruitment.

"Is this necessary? I look like a tear drop," Violet complained, displayed on a tailor's pedestal in a pale blue dress.

Mirrors ringed the princess's room and the tailor, a shrunken elf wearing spectacles that might've been thicker than the palace walls, carefully pinned the dress's hem.

Raegan's eyes sparkled. "You look beautiful! Besides I can't have you attend with me in your uniform. Stand still."

Violet sighed. "I'm honored to be your escort, Princess, but this really isn't me."

"Stop being so grumpy," Violet urged. "You've been like this for days. Eden said to put you in the best dress and that's what I'm going to do."

Violet yanked the hem out of the tailor's wrinkled hands. "This was the king's idea? I thought you wanted me to go with you!"

Raegan frowned. "You two have been avoiding each other too long. You're his bodyguard! You can't stay away forever."

"I won't," Violet answered. "Just until the ball is over. I already told him I'm not going."

"But you have to be there!"

Violet stepped off the pedestal and grabbed her black guard uniform. "You're right, I am a bodyguard. And if I can't be there as what I am, then I don't want to be there at all."

***

As evening closed in, so did the royal guests. Violet perched on the roof of one of the watchtowers, bow in hand. Gilded carriages rolled through the gates. Masked men and women emerged, the dying sun caught in their metallic faces. Music from the orchestra drifted up to Violet reminding her that somewhere down there Eden and his fiancé were getting ready to open the ball with the first dance.

She made her way off the spiraled roof and slipped through the window she'd left open. She'd arranged with Captain Dana to go on patrol around the palace walls later once the guests were all inside. She was happy to have something to focus on beyond the questions constantly assaulting her.

How long could she stay at the palace after Eden was married?

Would she have to return to Eloy? Face her parents?

Would he let her stay on as a guard?

After all they'd been through, and the magic they shared, she knew he appreciated her but would that be enough?

"This is ridiculous," she muttered.

Too caught up in her own thoughts, she didn't see the three nobles from Parvara before she collided with them. Sapphire-blue wine spilled down expensive silks. Their horned masks seemed to sharpen in the growing darkness. Curses Violet had never heard before filled the hall. Her own uniform clung wet to her skin.

"Can they not afford to give their commoners eyes in this backwater?" demanded one of the men, throwing his empty glass against the wall.

The shards scattered across the floor.

Violet stumbled back. "I'm so sorry! I didn't see you."

"As if that's good enough," cried the woman, her long red hair dripping blue. "I have to see the king soon. How can I appear before a Monarch like this? Insipid cow."

"We've travelled a full day to make it here," declared the second man, crunching glass beneath his feet to tower over Violet. His green eyes bored into her; his hand rested on the pummel of his sword. "Nothing but hail and rain greeted us. When we finally get a decent drink to warm our souls, we meet with Basharr's last surviving idiot. You should do a lot more than apologize, peasant."

Violet bit the inside of her cheek, trying to keep irritation to herself. "My lord, I am truly sorry for the inconvenience. I'd be happy to find you replacement garments and wine."

The woman laughed. "I'm sure a guard's wardrobe is full of bespoke pieces."

"We brought that wine from the heart of Parvara where the grapes rival the sapphires of our mines. There is no more left," seethed the tallest man, drawing his sword. "You'll pay your debt in blood."

Violet took a few steps back. "My lords, don't do this. I'm a royal guard and I will defend myself."

"Now, she insults the warriors of Parvara! Her tongue is the first thing to go," growled the first man, drawing a knife.

Violet's hand went to her quiver, bow already in hand. "Our Monarchs would not want us to fight," Violet said. "Isn't there another way to resolve this?"

The men shouted and leapt at her. Her bow went up, blocking the blows. She dove, sliding between the two of them and nocked an arrow as she spun. The shaft flew but the woman pushed her just as she fired, driving the arrow into the floor.

"You'll have to do better than that," grinned the taller warrior, his silver mask sending chills down Violet's spine.

She jumped into the windowsill. The sword went for her abdomen, but she blocked it with her bow. The other man jabbed with his knife and found her arm. Violet gasped and jabbed an arrow into his shoulder, sending him reeling into the noblewoman's grasp.

"What's going on here?"

A masked stranger rounded the corner, distracting the swordsman. Violet launched two arrows, one landing in each foot respectively. He howled in pain, tearing his mask off. He had red hair like the noblewoman but cropped close to his pasty skin. Scars crept up his neck onto his cheeks. Violet was certain she'd added a few more to his feet.

"How dare you hurt my brothers!" screeched the woman.

"She defended herself," declared the stranger. "Get out of here before I bring this matter before Queen Chione."

She stared at the stranger for a few breaths, weighing her pride against her better judgement. Finally, she pulled the arrows from her brother's feet and helped the two limp away.

"Spilling blood isn't how we want this masquerade to start, is it?" asked the stranger, offering Violet a gloved hand down from the windowsill.

"It wasn't my intention," Violet replied, taking the help. "They wouldn't listen."

"They're a lowly set of nobles from Parvara, the Stagg siblings, insecure about their rank and ready to show it," the stranger explained.

"And you? You're from Parvara as well?" Violet asked.

His costume faded from a soft to a deep green, shifting in the light. His mask was a silver skull, the teeth painted gold. His blue eyes shone, bordered by all the precious metals.

"I am. Another lowly noble," he replied. Violet could hear the grin in his voice. "My name is Vesper Ayleth. You?"

"Violet Bellerose."

"Well, Violet, you had no need of me in the fight but perhaps I can offer other services." He glanced down at her stained uniform. "You can't go anywhere in that, much less a masquerade. I came more prepared than my countrymen. There are gowns to choose from in my room."

"I'm not attending tonight, but thank you, Vesper."

"Don't tell me Basharr's king keeps warriors out of his magnificent gatherings? Shouldn't you be at his side?"

Violet looked down at the bow in her hands. "I don't know." She met his blue stare. "Vesper, have you ever been jealous?"

He chuckled. "Oh, many times. What are you jealous of?" He noticed Violet's tense face. "Or who?"

She couldn't say the words out loud. "What did you do about it?"

"I took what I wanted…and who I wanted," Vesper replied.

Violet nodded, unstrapping her quiver and handed it to Vesper along with her bow. "Show me those gowns."