The Masked Empire 소설 & 이야기

The glass cup slipped from my hands and shattered on the ground, the shards flying about in different directions. My heart raced and I palmed my lips in horror. "Oh my. I'm so sorry," I gasped, lifting my face to peer at his face and blood drained from my body. He wore a dark plastic mask that only revealed his dark orbs but kept the rest of his face concealed. My eyes did a scan on his black outfit made up of a well-tailored suit and a pair of black boots that did nothing to hide how huge and intimidating he was. Dressing formally wasn't for a man like him.

My grip tightens on the phone. No. No, no, no. My heart slams against my ribs, my pulse roaring in my ears. I watch him—Ghost—standing in that fucking room, his hands shaking, desperation clear in his eyes. He wasn’t pleading for our lives. He was trying to undo what he did. “Why should we believe you?” the masked man asks. Ghost lets out a bitter, humorless laugh. “How else would I know the name? Come on, why do you think I told that idiot to stop?” His hands clench at his sides, his whole body tense. “Just take the three million and let us go.”

“Liam… I’m not a maid. You think I’m here to clean?” I held my breath. “Noah’s hungry. He’s sick of eating that same old cake. At least—” “If he’s hungry, order food,” she cut me off. “I’m on a diet. This mask needs twenty minutes to set. I can’t be near heat. My pores will open again.” I stared at her green-coated face, not understanding how I’d gotten to this point. Emily always had a reason not to do anything remotely resembling care. Not even for Noah.

I sat down on the couch and texted back: Work or personal? Emma: Personal. There’s a masquerade party this Saturday. You’re coming with me. I frowned. Why? Emma: Long story. The guy who’s been bothering me will be there. I need backup. I was tempted to say no. Parties weren’t my thing. But before I could type a full excuse, she sent another message. Emma: I already picked your outfit. Sexy dress and mask. No room for debate. I sighed. Of course she did. In the end, I said yes. Because Emma was Emma, and I owed her.

he said. She turned, smoothing the fabric down her waist. “It’s… too much.” “It’s perfect.” The tailor returned with a box of masks—some feathered, some jeweled, some carved in the style of Venetian nobility. Emilia reached for a half-mask made of silver filigree and lace. She held it up to her face. Sebastian nodded with approval. “That one.” She caught his reflection behind her in the mirror. His eyes were sharp. Focused. Like she was prey dressed in silk.

He opened the doors. "Finally," I roared, strolling past the Shi. Some tried to hold me back but were easily repelled. "I've been dying to see the man I've heard so much about. The man, the myth, the legend himself. Emperor Callum the Seventh." Shadiàn pulsated with electricity as I drew the blade and slammed it into the polished floor, blowing out the windows and any other glass in the room. "I'm Jamie the Mask."

“You came to the city wearing a ceremonial mask, no one saw your face, it is bound to spark some rumors. So, you have to show yourself, so the people can be reassured that it is indeed a woman. You might not know this but something similar happened a few years ago in a Kingdom east of here. A prince was wedded to a foreign woman of another kingdom to fulfill a peace treaty. She came in a veil, throughout all the proceedings, no one ever saw her face for a long time until one day her veil was ripped away by a clumsy servant. It wasn’t the bride, it was her brother. The king’s youngest son. The memory of the incident is still fresh in everyone’s mind, your appearance in a mask will relive it a