Music flooded the halls of the castle and sent goosebumps down her arms. The light woodwinds dancing with the thundering of drums sent her heart racing. She shouldn't be here. She should be hulled away in her quarters, nose in one of the many books scattered about her desk, practicing her languages or even sleeping off the long week she's had. Yet something had her spending her rations on an extravagant sage gossamer gown that flowed like the wind from her waist, had her swiping the heels from a merchant that had stiffed her last week and sliding various pins into her raven black hair. Slowly, she approached the guards at the nearest entrance and shifted her wrist to show the emblem branded into her skin. With a nod, the ballroom doors were opened and she loosed a breath.
Hundreds of people filled the room as they danced and laughed and drank to the sounds made by the band on the small stage before them. Each and every person had adhered to tonight's theme and wore varying sized masquerade masks. Some had their entire face covered while others covered only their eyes, all of which were breathtaking. Though admittedly, not always for good reason.
Alina's own mask covered most of her nose and cheeks, only her chestnut brown eyes shone through, a fact she was very grateful for as she felt many men look her way. Ignoring the blood that rushed to her cheeks, she smiled and took a flute of champagne from one of the many servers making rounds around the room. Once she drank every drop from her glass, she immersed herself in the crowd. Most people had started partying long before her arrival and would continue to do so long after she left, but for now, she was among them and she was going to have fun. She was going to be someone else tonight.
Dancing her way through the sea of faceless souls, Alina felt exhilarated. She had not felt this free, this alive in quite some time and she was not sure she would ever feel this way again. She wanted to pause time and live this way forever. To simply live, to simply laugh among those who want the same. Her thoughts were interrupted as a cold splash had her stopping in her tracks. Turning, she saw a masked man with an empty champagne flute, smiling at her.
"My apologies, miss. It appears your gown is wet," he said with about as much charm as a dung beetle. The two men at his sides chuckled. "Perhaps you would like some help taking it off?"
Alina rolled her eyes. They noticed.
"Oh come on. My boys and I are perfect gentlemen."
Alina simply turned to walk away. Though her annoyance had her jaw tight, she resigned to let it go. No need to sour a good night over people so inconsequential. That was, until the dung beetle gripped her by her wrist and yanked her backwards. Whipping around and glaring at him, he gave a smile that was more like a baring of teeth than anything else.
"It's rude to walk away from a gentlemen without saying anything."
Alina stared into his dark eyes and forced steady breaths into her lungs. She wanted to strike him. She wanted his head in her hands and his body lifeless on the floor. That, though, would certainly spoil the night for everyone else and bring unwanted attention to her. Maybe there was a way if she lured him--
"I think laying your hands on a lady without permission is the higher offense," said a cool, male voice from behind her. "I suggest you let her go."
This only garnered a laugh from the dung beetle.
"Back off pal, we're just having some fun."
"This is a sad excuse for fun. Or, maybe just a sad excuse for a man?"
"What did you just say?" The dung beetle shouted.
"Oh no, is your hearing as awful as your manners? Maybe you should look into remedies for that."
"Fuck you," the dung beetle spat. "If you know what's good for you you'll back off and leave us to our party."
The man behind her only laughed. It was the kind of laugh she knew well, one she has used many times. Not one of humor, but one of malice. One that seeped venom into the floorboards.
"If you'd like to keep your hand attached to your body, you will let go of her and leave." Alina's body tingled with excitement at the threat.
The dung beetle was cut off as the man suddenly appeared in her view, gripping dung beetle by his jaw hard enough to strike fear in his heart and lifted him a few inches off the floor. The dung beetle's eyes went wide as he stared into the eyes of the man that still managed to tower above him.
"I will not issue another warning," the man said. Without so much as a last look at Alina, the dung beetle released her wrist and looked to the man expectantly.
"Do not make a habit of meeting me," was all he said before releasing his jaw and watching the dung beetle scurry off with his friends the second his feet touched the floor.
Though his back was to her, the man before her was quite the sight. He was tall and his dark hair seemed to cast starlight in its reflection. His aura radiated something strong, something powerful, and it was more intoxicating than any drug or drink. When he finally turned around, his blue eyes laid into hers though he said nothing.
"I hope you're not waiting on a thank you," she said at last. He tilted his head. His mask mirrored Alina's, showing only the bottom of his face and his eyes, though she could still read him. "I could have gotten out of that situation a dozen different ways."
"Really? Only a dozen?" He smirked. His tanned skin reminded her of burnt honey.
"You interrupted before I could divine more."
"I see," he mused. "I guess an apology is in order. I shall have to make up for my intrusion."
"Not sure it's possible, it was a grave offense."
"Perhaps, but maybe a night of revelry in good company shall help?"
"I was going to have that anyway," she said with a shrug.
"I assure you, you've never had company like me before," he said with a subtle bow. Staring into his eyes as he stepped closer, his hand outstretched and lips twisted into a wicked grin, Alina could not help but give into the danger.
"We shall see," she said taking his hand. "But I am quite hard to please. I do not recommend disappointing me."
"Is that a threat?" he asked, guiding her towards the center of the dance floor. Something in his voice made her think he hoped it was.
"I have been told I have great issues controlling my anger," she countered. "People tend to get hurt."
"Then it is a good thing I do not baulk," he said kissing the palm of her hand and leading her into the next dance.
The night blurred by in a way she wasn't expecting. It was spent laughing, dancing, drinking and crafting stories about other partygoers around the room. She had more fun than she could have expected at such an event, in such a Kingdom, with such a man. She felt renewed. Though as the night gave way to dawn, so was her resolve.
As she slipped out of the bed that was too big for any one man and slid on her heels, she took one last look at him as he slept. Peaceful and dark, in a sleep so deep it made her smirk as she recalled the night they spent tiring one another out. Squaring her shoulders, she ducked into the hallway and softly closed the door behind her.
She would not be distracted or swayed.
She would not get buried like the others.
She would not betray her mission.
It did not matter that she had just spent the night in her target's bed. It did not matter that she had slept with him. All that mattered was her mission.
Fore it may not be tonight, but she was going to kill him all the same. She was going to kill the Prince of Whestari.
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