One day, someday My prince may come But it doesn't seem likely And even if he came and he liked me It's likely he'd be Not quite my type
It was the night of the Masquerade. Celeste's first. She had been shocked that she was even permitted to go. But, as she had learned, her cousin liked being the center of the universe. He was not particular about who he invited to watch the spectacle. And, if you were in his employ, you were either working or in attendance. And he did not need a nurse at his party...fingers crossed.
She had been given a dress for the evening. It was a hazy, dark celadon color. Simple, and unoffensive. Ankle length, with three quarter length sleeves. Her only qualm with the thing was the ridiculous neckline. It had wide lapels that were delicately embroidered with silver flowers, but the damn thing nearly fell open to her navel. She felt exposed and was not at all confident that everything was going to remain in its place. But, she didn't have much of an option. She wasn’t exactly flush with finery and flouncy gowns.
She had pinned her hair up halfway, letting the bulk of it fall down her back. It was perfectly adequate, in her opinion. She had never been to a fancy-dress ball. And, for all the discussion and excitement surrounding it, it seemed like rather more trouble than it was worth.
Standing on the side of the ballroom, she had her arms firmly crossed over her chest, watching the whirling, giddy partygoers. She watched Julian as he changed partners with each new dance. She saw him every time his eyes fell on her, and then quickly averting his gaze.
Her time of being confined to the palace was nearly done. She would be free to go, soon. She would still be in the employ of the palace, but she could come and go as she pleased, more or less. As the year mark approached, Julian had become withdrawn from her. And her surveillance by the guards and courtiers had increased dramatically, as had her workload.
Celeste felt a hand on her shoulder as someone approached her from behind. Aedan leaned down and whispered in her ear. "You know, standing over here looking miserable is just drawing more attention to yourself."
She stared straight ahead but made a noise of annoyance. "I doubt it. Most of the key players have been half-drunk since noon."
Her brother straightened and stepped to her side. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "What in the hell are you wearing?" she hissed.
He was wearing a red dress shirt with a black brocade vest with satin lapels, fastened with gold buttons, and similar black brocade trousers. His blonde hair was slicked back, with wispy curls at the nape of his neck fighting against the product in his hair. He wore a leather mask, fashioned after a duck hawk. Golden knotwork playing across it.
"You're one to talk," he whispered back, amused. "Dad would have a heart attack if he saw you like that."
She narrowed her eyes. "Well, he won't. So, I suppose it really doesn't matter, does it?"
Aedan sighed and rolled his eyes. "You're making this harder on yourself than it has to be. It's a party, Sissy. Go have fun. Please." He reached into his pocket and fished out a few coins. "Give me your hand," he demanded.
She stuck her hand out, the other arm still crossed over her chest. He dropped the money in her palm and folded her fingers around them. "It's a masquerade. Go buy a mask. The countess has some vendors out back."
She went to protest, but he was gone, back into the fray.
Julian whisked by her again and spun away, a glittering sapphire-color clad man in his arms. But, he saw her, and she saw his expression shift from delight to...melancholy? Pity? For himself, or her?
She was so frustrated, and so, so very tired. This was exactly what she hadn't wanted. She hadn't wanted to get attached to him. But, she had. And now, he kept her at arm's length. Claiming it would be easier for both of them. That he couldn't compromise both of their positions in the palace. That he was her superior, and that it was improper for them to carry on.
She couldn't bear to look at him anymore, and she turned and strode out of the ballroom.
She made her way down the corridors. Revelers pouring out of every room. Intoxicated, laughing. The sheer numbers of people that blocked her way were incredible. It was stiflingly hot. People in their formal wear, sweating, mixing with heavy perfumes and colognes. How was anyone meant to enjoy this? She dodged bodies, pushing past, sneaking between.
When she finally found the veranda, there was only a smattering of guests. Some browsing, others just enjoying the cool night air. She could see others down in the garden, playing, dancing, kissing.
She moved through the booths. There were a great many pretty things. Gems and crystals. Precious metals. Refined. Lovely. Sterile. Beautiful, but lacking personality. Unless wealth qualified as a personality. Then, they were spot on.
She reached the end of the aisle and was nearly resigned to it being a waste of time. Her eyes fell on the last booth. Seemingly unoccupied. She approached and looked over the masks. Only a few remaining. They were hand-carved and painted. They were gorgeous. True art pieces. Various animals. Birds. Foxes. Wolves. Snakes.
A bear. Just one bear mask pinned up, just out of her reach.
"I'm sorry, I had to step away for a moment. Can I help you?"
Celeste turned towards the airy voice. The person in front of her was elegantly adorned in violet and white, accents of gold, a thick golden collar, and a fox mask. A similar one to the ones on display. Fluffy, white curls on their head. Beautiful hair. She didn't think she'd seen anything like it. Her father had been blonde, and so was her brother, but this was something else altogether. And his eyes were lavender. That couldn't be entirely natural. Could it?
"I...yes. I wanted to see that bear mask, please," she stammered, following him with her eyes as he stepped back into the stall, pointing at it.
"You're welcome to look, but I'm afraid that one is already claimed." the person said, contrite. "I might have a similar one, somewhere." They lifted the mask off the wall presenting it to her in white-gloved hands. She carefully lifted it, examining it. Tracing her fingers over the carvings.
She felt a pang in her chest. She thought of her father. The man who had bested the bear, come back from the grave. It was always a fun story to hear. The way that the villagers would tell it, and the way her mama would laugh and chide them, assuring them that papa was nothing special. Just a lucky son-of-a-bitch, and that she was the real heroine of the story.
Asra watched her face as she admired Muriel's handiwork. He rarely saw someone so enthralled with their pieces. Perhaps the Countess, who invited him back year after year. Other people went for the more elaborate, expensive pieces. It was simply a matter of clientele. They would make a few sales. But, he liked the ambiance of the Masquerade. The colors, and the excitement. A little extra money never went amiss, either. He could watch the spectacle, see the outfits.
Muriel had agreed to come with him, under duress. But was quite quickly over the whole affair and had wandered off to find someplace quieter.
"This is wonderful," she said, handing the mask back over. "They all are. Are you the artist?"
Asra nodded. "I do the paint and some of the finer details, but my partner does the carvings and the leatherwork."
"Oh, like the peregrine falcon mask I saw earlier? The leather one?" she asked.
Asra's eyes went wide. "Yes, that's one of ours. I did the paint on it and he did the tooling. That was a commission piece for one of the guards. The countess had it made for him."
She nodded, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, another gift for Aric. If she had to guess, it was really Lucio pulling the strings and making dictates for how he wanted his guard to present himself. She forced a smile. "It was very beautiful. I know the man it was given to. I can't think of anything more appropriate for him."
Asra bent down and placed the mask in a box below the table, and rummaged through the remaining supplies, looking for another bear mask. He knew there was one here, somewhere. "Ah!" He exclaimed, pulling the leather mask out. "This might do. It's lighter than the other one. I think it might suit you better, too." He straightened, extending the mask to her.
It was smaller and lighter than the wooden mask. It was more intricate, with delicate patterns. Dainty gold accents brushed through the fur. It was so lovely. Exactly what she wanted. "Yes. I'll take it."
She reached out with her coin, and he put his hand up, refusing her. "No, keep it. It's nice to see someone appreciate them."
She raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "No. I insist. There's too much effort and love poured into these to let it go for nothing." When he still refused, she tilted her head. "If it makes you feel better, it's not my money. I don't have any use for it. I don't have a pocket in this frock to hide it in. You're doing me a favor."
He sighed and relented, taking the coins and throwing them in a small box. She watched him magic it back shut, light shimmering from his fingertips. A magic lock.
"You practice magic?" she asked, quiet, looking back and forth, nervous.
"You saw that?" he replied, taken aback. Generally, people didn't see his magic, unless he was performing. Nothing that subtle caught people’s attention normally. He was caught off guard.
She made a low noise of acknowledgment. She snapped her fingers and the lock unlatched itself. Asra stared down at the box, blinking, then up at her. The tips of her fingers glittering for just a moment longer before it faded away. She had him fixed with a hard look.
"You should be more careful. There are a lot of prying eyes here. That would gladly exploit...that." she said, taking a step back.
"I'm a magician. It's kind of common knowledge," he said, the corner of his mouth turned up. "You don't practice?"
She shook her head. "Not safe."
He eyed her, confused. "I'm not sure what you mean? Sure, some people don't understand it, but..."
She stepped further away, putting her hand up. "Thank you, for the mask."
She turned to go, and she heard him calling after her. She forged forward, and then she caught the shock of red hair descending the stairs.
She stopped, looking back towards the man in the fox mask, then back at Julian, in his feathered raven get up. There really was no good option.
So she gripped the mask tight in one hand, and balled her skirt in the other and bolted, past Julian, and down into the garden.
"Celeste!" Julian yelled after her. He threw his hands up in frustration, then took off after her. He tripped over his own feet and caught some poor woman as he stumbled. Righting himself, and calling a stream of apologies over his shoulder as he ran after her.
"Celeste," Asra said, quietly to himself. Committing it to memory.
--
She ran, but she knew that Julian's legs were longer than hers by a fair sight. She just had to keep moving until she could find somewhere to take refuge. But, she didn't know the gardens particularly well. She wasn't permitted out of the castle often.
She saw a path at the tree line and made a break for it.
Once she had gotten beyond the trees, she looked back. She didn't see Julian but could hear him calling. She quickly pulled the mask on, fanning her hair out over the strap. She looked around for other signs of life. None to speak of. She took a chance and smoothed her hand over her dress, glamouring the color. Something distinctly not her. Red. The silver accents going gold. She was out of practice and knew it wouldn't last long, but it would service so she could sneak away. A temporary camouflage.
She moved along the path. The foliage became denser. Heavy vines thick with flowers cascading down from the treetops. Moonlight casting tendrils of light that danced and glittered as the breeze moved through.
She came upon a clearing and saw a figure, half in shadow, sitting on the edge of a long-neglected fountain. He startled when she entered into his presence, straightening a bit.
She looked around. There really was no place left to go. Every other path was so massively overgrown that it wouldn't be wise to go further. But, she couldn't hear Julian anymore. It was a brief respite.
"Sorry," she said to the big man that sat in front of her, watching her, looking somewhat irritated. "I'll be out of your hair in just a moment."
Muriel's eyes were wide. He had really tried to find somewhere quiet. No small feat in the middle of this nightmare of a party. And now, this woman...
...wearing one of his masks. His bear mask.
"Ah...sorry. I really am." She stated again. He had his eyes trained on her, staring her down, making her nervous. She couldn't really get a good read on him. Somewhere between annoyance and panic. And, this man was imposing, to say the least. Even sitting, she could tell a lot was going on, there. He was very impressive. And attractive. Very, very beautiful. Not at all dressed for a formal gathering. But, here, where nature had reclaimed the garden...that made sense.
She bowed her head to him and started to back away, then she turned, and walked back down the path. She hesitated for a moment and looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with the man once more.
Muriel wasn’t sure he could trust his eyes. Was this really happening? He blushed, but couldn't look away. As he stared, he watched the red of her dress melt away, fading back into a dark jade green. His favorite color.
And then she was gone.
---
She came back upon the main gardens, and Julian was nowhere to be seen. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Things were clearing out. She knew the party would go on until dawn, but not everyone had the stamina for this sort of thing. She certainly didn't. It was getting late enough that she could, perhaps, steal away back to her room.
She made her way across the manicured lawn. There were bodies strewn across the damp grass, lovers locked at the mouth, rolling around. Wanton. Drunk on each other. And, the copious amounts of alcohol probably didn't help.
Then, winded, from behind her. "Celeste, please!"
She dropped her chin to her chest, defeated. She drew a deep breath and whirled on him, jaw set. "What, Julian? Tired of ignoring me?"
He looked stricken, but he continued moving towards her. "Please, I want to make you understand..."
She rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. "Understand what? I think I get the message. You're the one that seems confused." she spat at him. "Why don't you just go back to your dancing?"
He dipped his head, looking ashamed. "You were the loveliest girl at the party tonight..."
She scoffed. "Please."
"...that's just the problem. If I'd paid you even the slightest amount of attention tonight it would've been all over the palace in record time. I know how close you are to having your restrictions lifted. I just don't want you...want us...under any undue scrutiny."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Undue scrutiny?" she repeated back at him, her voice dripping venom.
"You don't know how many eyes are on us. On you." he countered, keeping his voice even. "I don't understand it, but I know that things are different with you here. They never imposed half of the rules on me that they do for you. And Valdemar hates me, so I don't know what they would do to you if they thought they could get away with it. And they would get away with it."
There was something about her presence that put all the courtiers on edge. This wasn't normal. None of the other staff was treated with quite as much judgment as she had been. And Lucio was easily swayed by the courtiers. He could, and would, dispatch her if they asked him to. They didn't have to be honest with Lucio, either. He had seen them force his hand for minor infractions. With dire consequences.
They had shared many nights together. And it had been happy. The happiest she had been since she had come to Vesuvia. And then, he'd dropped her like a stone. She didn't know if she loved the fool or not, but he had been so caring. He was her friend. And he was her lover. She had let him in, and he had left her in the lurch.
She took a sharp breath. "I...appreciate that you're looking out for me. But, I can take care of myself. I will be okay. I just...I thought we had something."
He flushed a bit, the corner of his mouth turning up. "We do. Of course, we do, Celeste," he said, gently. "I don't want to draw more attention to us. And...I'm not good at being quiet."
She cast her eyes down, thinking. "What if...what if you didn't have to be quiet? What if we just went away? We just walked away from this?" She looked back to him, gesturing vaguely. "I don't want any of it. We can go off, start over. Together. What's holding us here?" She closed the gap between them, reaching out to grab his arms. "We aren't safe here. We aren't happy here."
His eyes went wide, darting around. He stepped back and grabbed her hand in his. Trying to find somewhere less exposed.
Every dark corner, every secluded alcove, was occupied. Things were devolving into a damn orgy. A couple stumbled out in front of them, disheveled. Blushing. He pushed past them into the space they had occupied, pulling Celeste behind him.
He released her and pulled his mask off, and she did the same.
"Are you serious?" he asked, dubious. "You want to go? With me?"
"Come on, Julian. You know nothing good comes from staying here." she insisted. "Are we slaves here, or are we employees? Employees can walk away. We are good at what we do. We can go and start over. Together."
Julian was unsure of what to say. His head weaved back and forth, and he made breathy noises, trying to find words. "We...we made commitments. It's part of the palace structure. We can't just walk away."
"Please, don't lecture me about commitments. I am up to my ears in commitments that I didn’t want to make.” she retorted. “What is lifting the sequester going to do? Allow me to go into town every once in a while? I'm still trapped here. And if I'm going to be trapped here, I deserve to have at least one friend." she pleaded. "We have to take care of each other."
"That's what I'm trying to do. I promise you...I just don't know how to do it." exasperated and sad. This was uncharted territory for him. Even if it had been better circumstances, the wouldn't know how to navigate these emotions. He wanted her. But he knew it was a terrible idea.
"There has to be some sort of compromise here, Julian. Please, help me." She begged.
He averted his gaze. "Please, lovely..." He sighed. "It's...we can just ride this out. We'll see what happens. How long is it? A few months more. We just have to buckle down. We can get through this. We just have to be careful." he concluded. There was nothing else to do.
She drew a shaky breath and steeled herself, glaring at him. "Then I guess this conversation was entirely useless. Thank you for chasing me. Very helpful." She snarled. "I'd rather be alone if the only other option is this." she threw her hand up, gesturing at him. "Some condescending clown that treats me like his subordinate when I can run circles around him. I will figure this out on my own. I do not need you getting drunk and existential at me every time you have a bad day that you have imposed on yourself. I have enough problems of my own."
He reeled back, shocked. So much for being quiet, he thought.
She continued berating him, her finger in his chest. "I won't hold my breath for you, Doctor Devorak. I enjoyed the fucking, but I assure you, I am quite over being screwed by this whole situation. One day I'll wake in the arms someone who will love me with all that they are. But you're too afraid to even pretend that you like me. So, good for you. You got under my skirt. You win. See you Monday.”
She whirled out of the alcove, and she did not look back, brushing past the smattering of people who had gathered to listen in. She was wholly unashamed. Even when she saw her brother, standing there, looking scandalized, but amused.
"Shut it," she said, putting her hand up as she strode past him.
"You want me to kick his ass?" he called after her.
She made a rude gesture in reply, not breaking her stride.
From across the garden, Asra and Muriel watched her from under the willow tree near the fountain. They had been just about ready to go when they'd heard the commotion and saw the gathering crowd.
"Who the hell is that?" Muriel asked, bewildered, shifting the box of masks on his shoulder.
Asra gave a breathy sigh, smiling broadly. "That is Celeste."
I was like, what on earth would Muriel want with anything expensive?? Then I thought...everything is expensive to poor orphan kids. T^T So young Muriel it is! First full-color pic in awhile--pretty happy. ^^~ ((I mean, aside from how sad I made myself drawing this, LOL. Someone feed them!!))
**Also, headcanon, Lucio is the kind of egotistical nutjob who would 100% take over a country and then immediately change the name of its local currency to his own. So the eels cost 30 Lucios a piece. 🤣🤣🤣
(And ik he’s really dark. u_u My lack of appropriate skin tones attacks again...)
