Novel & Cerita Blissful Masquerade

She danced and mingled with ease, while I found solace at the bar, sipping on a drink and watching the partygoers from afar. As the night progressed, I found myself feeling more at ease with the party's anonymity. The masks allowed me to forget about my past and embrace the mystery and intrigue of the night. But that all changed when I saw him - a tall, dark stranger, dressed in a black suit and mask. He stared at me, making me feel uncomfortable. I quickly averted my gaze, pretending to be interested in my drink, but he approached me nonetheless. "Hey there, beautiful. May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice smooth and low.

"Although the money is decent, this is a masquerade performance. The clients prefer to be anonymous. I agreed right away without thinking. Friday night arrived fast, and before I knew it I was standing backstage at Eclipse, clad in a revealing costume and a black mask half my face. As I watched for my signal, my heart hammered in my chest. Soft, sensual lighting enveloped the stage as I left, the eyes of the patrons tracking every action. Trying to forget where I was and why I was doing this, I turned my attention to the music. The performance passed in a haze, my head disconnected from my body.

Masquerade gracefully resumed waltzing, and I let myself be swept along, my lips still tingling from the sensation of his kiss. If the expression on Masquerade's face indicated anything, he had enjoyed it, too. He seemed a little bewildered, and frankly, so was I. How was it possible to be this happy?

Inayos ko ang tassel earrings sa tenga ko. I put on the last thing I haven't applied yet to put color on my pale face. Ang may kaputlaan kong labi ay nabigyan kahit papaano ng kulay pagkatapos kong lagyan ng pulang lipstick ang labi. I sprayed ounce of perfume on my neck, collar bone, wrist and at the back of my ears. Vanilla scent played inside the four-cornered room as I swayed gracefully in front of the mirror. Huling pasada, nang makuntento sa itsura ay lumabas ako ng kuwarto.

He asked. "Yes yes sir." The recieved said with a shivering voice. "You know who is speaking right?" He asked again and the head of department replied with an overly excited and shivering yes. "Good, I need you to do something for me." He said and relayed a set of instructions to him before hanging up. "Now that's how you treat your wife well." He said as he unties the masquerade mask and placed it on the cabinet in the kitchen. As he did the dishes, Edward hummed to the song his favourite song and did a little saying around.

“Thinking is how people get themselves killed. Enjoy the Masquerade instead.” With that, he left. I held the fox mask to my chest, trying to steady my breathing. Burned farmland. A reward. Killian’s rage. And here I was, hiding in the woods with rogues, pretending I was building a new life. Pretending I wasn’t still tangled in the ashes of the old one. By the time night fell fully, the Masquerade had begun. Lanterns glowed like suspended stars, dancers spun in circles of swirling colors, drums beat in joyous rebellion, and laughter filled the air as if grief didn’t exist at all.

Beside it lay a mask—a plain, featureless white porcelain half-mask that covered the eyes and nose, devoid of glitter, feathers, or expression. "It looks like a shroud," Aria whispered, picking up the heavy velvet. "It’s a Domino," Cassandra corrected, applying a layer of gold shimmer to her collarbones. "Very Venetian. Very mysterious. And most importantly, it blends in with the drapes." She turned from the mirror, her eyes critical and cold. "Tonight is my twenty-ninth birthday, Aria. It is a Masquerade. The theme is 'Gilded Age Decadence.' I am the Queen. Damian is the King. And you..." She gestured vaguely at the gray heap. "You are the shadow."

I'd dated models, actresses, women who made careers out of being beautiful, but none of them had stayed in my head like this masked stranger I'd met for less than five minutes. The door to VIP Room Three stood open, I stepped inside, but she wasn't there yet. I sat on the leather sofa, adjusting my cufflinks out of nervous habit. The door opened. Nyx stepped inside wearing black lace this time. The lingerie left even less to imagination than the crimson from last week. Her red hair cascaded over her shoulders in waves, and that jeweled mask caught the amber light. I couldn’t take my eyes off how stunning she looked in that lace.

I knew. I walked up to him, tugging my wallet from my coat. “Something wrong, sir?” I retrieved a check. Five digits, clean. I handed it over. “Get this to the masked dancer.” He whistled low at the amount. “Damn. Lux?” His lips curled into a grin. “She’s fire, ain’t she? Man, every guy in that room would sell their soul to get a taste. She’s so fucking unreal.” I didn’t respond.