My Collection of Flash Fiction

dancing with your enemy

The music from the King's Hall was deafening, as it was concealing. Laya adjusted her mask and smoothed down her gown as she made her way to the hall. Today, she would do it. She would take down the Princess.

As she entered the hall, she marvelled at the ball's magnitude. The hall was enormous, and was decorated with velvet for the Winter Ball. Each of the guests wore a wonderful winter colour, with a striking mask. She spotted the Queen at the edge of the room, seated on a throne, talking to a minister, but the Princess was nowhere in sight.

Laya walked over the room, searching the room for the young woman. Laya felt a tap on her shoulder, and immediately spun over. The woman was wearing a delicate mask, wearing an azure blue gown, with her black hair in a loose braid.

"May I have a dance?" she asked.

Laya glanced around the room. Refusing would be suspicious, so she reached for the stranger's outstretched hand. The woman led her to the centre of the hall, and put one hand on Laya's waist, the other on her shoulder, and Laya did the same.

The masked woman spun Laya around the room, smirking as Laya stared at her.
"So, are you enjoying the party?" she asked.
"Yes, it is wonderful."
"So are you. You are a talented dancer. Do you engage in this activity often?"
Laya smirked. "Something like that. My business requires me to attend balls, so I did have plenty of practise."
The woman spun her around. "I never did quite catch your name."
"Ah, my name. It's Betty."
"Betty?"
"Yes, Betty", Laya repeated. "My parents were quite fond of the country lifestyle."
"I see."

The woman dipped Laya down, and whispered in her ears. "You know Betty, it is very rude, killing a host of a ball. And dancing with one isn't smart either."