Masquerading

2: Princes and Lords and Ladies, Oh My!

WELL into the night's celebrations, merry revelers watched the dancers and waited for a chance to join in. Moving through the crowd that edged the dance floor, stopping to take in conversations and insinuations, Leif was relatively unnoticed. He wasn't interested in the dancing, or any of the maidens or ladies who swooned in his direction as he passed.

He kept track of the guests, who under their headdresses and masks, seemed to be too interested in the Princess. It was inevitable that she would eventually be figured out, despite the two graceful and elegant decoy princesses.

"My-my! Here comes a true Aradanas nobleman now!"

Leif smirked at the comment that reached his ears, knowing he commanded a certain attention. He considered the women that stepped out to block him and thought to sidestep them and continue on his way, but that would bring more attention to him than necessary. Raising an eyebrow, he straightened and, with a dazzling smile, examined the two women in the wrapped gowns not common in Aradanas.

"Forgive my forwardness, Lord," because Aradane women weren't supposed to be so forward. "My friend here has never danced with an Aradane before. Would you be so kind?"

There was definitely something to be said for the subtlety of women in Aradanas; that much Leif knew. What he didn't know was how to politely refuse such an invitation.

It took him longer than acceptable to find his words. "I am flattered by your request—"

"There you are!" A hand landed on his shoulder, tugging him away from the women. "You're needed at..."

Alarmed, Leif swatted the hand away, convinced he'd been caught, but he was met not with the unmasked face of a guard, but the winking eye of someone he did not know.

"You're welcome!" The man, a full head taller than him, grinned and leaned closer to commiserate. "Atoran women can be a bit intimidating."

Leif nodded, his heart still hammering wildly in his chest and schooled his face into a smile. "Thank you."

The man nodded, and Leif took the silent moment to examine him as he tried to place where he was from. His skin as dark as Aradanes got after a long season of sun meant he could pass as a fellow countryman were it not for his hair. Black as night and long, tied at the nape of his neck, it was a far cry from the short waves and lighter hair most Aradane men sported.

While the long navy-blue jacket, high collared shirt, black slacks and boots were fairly commonplace at any formal palace event, it was the rest of the man's attire that perplexed Leif.

The breastplate, worn so it was visible over his shirt, covered mostly one side of his chest and was like nothing Leif had ever seen. He wondered if the straps and buckles that held it in place concealed weapons like his own did when in use. The left arm and right shoulder of the jacket were embellished with a heavy plating, the armour and fabric fused as one. He cut an imposing figure, one that spoke of many and all kingdoms at once.

"Prince Kyden of Faladrin," the man said, catching Leif's eyes on him.

Leif raised an eyebrow; he'd never meet anyone from Faladrin before, but he'd heard they didn't wear quite so many clothes. "Prince Leif of Leressea." He eyed the dancing couples again. "Faladrin? You border Loricus, don't you?"

Following Leif's gaze, Kyden's jaw tightened as if it was a question he hated. Though, he must have known, as did all other guests, that tensions were high between Loricus and Aradanas. "We border the same mountains they do, yes."

"So, your guard also fends off vlamhoks?" Leif eyed the armour again as it suddenly made more sense. The armour that covered his entire left arm would help in fending off the piercing talons of the large, leathered, flame-breathing hawks.

"Vlamhoks, frimie and the occasional drunken Loricai soldier."

Leif could appreciate his sense of humour, but managed only an awkward chuckle. With things soured between the two countries, and half the kingdom on edge with possibility of war, it seemed oddly foreboding to speak of fending off Loricai soldiers.

Realising the misstep, the Prince stiffened and then quickly grabbed two drinks from the tray of a passing servant. He offered one to Leif and released a breath he'd been holding as a group of young men crowded around them.

"Might I introduce the Themian Princes and the Lord of Miah." Kyden gestured at the group, who'd brought with them a pink-masked boy with a tray of chilled brews.

One of the men—with a bronzed head shaved of all hair save a mass of long twisted locs at the top—spoke in gentle tones. "My brother is a Prince. I am merely a Lord." He turned to Leif and bowed, "Lord Killi of Themi."

But Leif already knew that; he'd have known that head anywhere, even with the furry mask that obscured his face. He'd met Killi twice before, and his wardrobe, hair and the swirling tattoos that peeked out of the opening in his shirt, made him easy enough to remember. But for Leif, it was the fact that they'd been fast friends at a young age.

"Killi!" He laughed, throwing an arm out in greeting as Kyden introduced him to the group. With a boisterous guffaw, Killi pulled him into a hug that lifted him clean off the floor. Leif straightened his jacket as his feet hit solid ground again and looked over Killi's head at the two brothers he'd never met.

Beside them was the Lord of Miah, every bit the opposite of the brawny, tanned Themian men. Despite resembling most Aradane men in height and stature, he wore his brown hair long, as the Themians did. Leif supposed it made sense since Miah was an Aradane land holding that had straddled both kingdoms for generations. Except to introduce himself as Tavis, the fashionable man contributed nothing but laughter to the drunken nonsense of the Themians.

As the music picked up pace, Kyden stepped away from them, offering Leif a boyish grin when he caught him watching. "I believe I'll introduce myself to the Princess."

Leif raised his glass to Kyden, "May Feyrie be with you."

Sipping his drink, he watched the tall Prince saunter into the midst of the dancers. Kyden's abrupt appearance on the dance floor, striding with purpose to the Princess, sent a suitor retreating to await yet another turn. Leif's amusement choked to halt a moment later; a piercing sound setting his hairs on end. It was a voice he knew... Screaming.