Assassin's Revenge

Chapter 5

(Isabella)

Despite rejecting all of the dresses father made for her for the past eight years, Darly accepted the dresses this time for the sake of the ‘bride ball’ and impressing the crown prince. It seems Darly really loves the prince, that she’d change her style to be his queen. Isabella smiles at the thought of Darly in love but then frowns at the fact that Darly will leave her and live with the prince in his castle.

“Darly, do you love Prince Arden?” Isabella says as she sits with Darly in their mother’s room. The maids rush around the room with accessories and make up products to prepare them for the ball tonight.

Darly ignores Isabella as the maid styles her hair into an elegant twist appropriate for a Grand Princess, she then looks at Isabella in the eye, “I don’t know if it’s love, but I’ll be really happy if I become his queen.” 

Isabella smiles at the thought of Darly happy, “You’ll make an amazing queen, Darly,” Darly nods at her then raises her eyes to the ceiling, staring at it as if it was a beautiful starry sky at night. 

“I’ll miss you.” Isabella says as the maid adds blush on her cheeks.

Darly looks at her in confusion as the maid pins her hair with a few crystal adornments, “I… I’ll miss you too.” That's the first time Isabella has seen Darly smile so genuinely in years.

After adding the last touches of makeup on their pale and soft faces, Isabella and Darlene are escorted to the royal castle, where the ball is being hosted, in their personal family carriage.

Darly came two weeks ago to father and told him that the crown prince will be holding a ball, to find his future bride, and disguise it as a masquerade ball. Since then, their parents had Darlene work extra hard on charming the crown prince. 

Today, Darly looks absolutely stunning in her turquoise ball gown, with its details in soft shining gold, she truly looks like the future queen she’s meant to be. Isabella wears a long flowing lavender dress, to match her mother, with lace flowery sleeves that widen and fall down from the elbows.

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Isabella and Darly enter the ballroom with their masks on, covering around their eyes. Darly in her gold mask, and Isabella in her steel lavender mask. Darly doesn’t really need a mask with her bright ginger hair, distinguishing her from the many blondes and brunettes in the ballroom. Though from the corner of her eyes, Isabella could see a girl in a rather simple off-shoulder emerald green dress, with no intricate details save for the golden belt around her waist and the black lace covering the tips of her dress. Her crimson red hair stood out in the crowd of the neutral hair colours, unstyled and falling to her waist. Around her neck, an emerald green necklace shines and her ears adorning matching round earrings. A mask covers her face, so Isabella doesn’t recognize anything familiar with this peculiar girl, or else she’d know her from her hair.

Isabella catches Darly staring at the girl, so she asks her, “Do you know her Darly? I’ve never seen her in court before.”

Darly quickly shakes her head and says, “She’s gonna steal my spotlight with her unique hair. Men like unique people.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Prince Arden loves you, I’m sure of it.”

Darly had told Isabella that the prince would be disguised so he could be anywhere among all those noblemen available. Adding to the fact that Isabella never met the prince in person before. 

Isabella’s pale grey eyes scan all the males present in the ballroom. The first man she sees is almost as old as her, with strawberry blonde hair, wearing a white, close to platinum, suit covered with bright ruby gems at the cuffs and collar. 

Another man looks as old as Darly, in a red suit with detailed black flowers at the sides, his honey blonde hair is tied in a low ponytail, falling to his collarbone. Other men swirl around in their different suits and hair and skin colours, all of them like a rainbow in the grand crystal ballroom. 
Darly is already gone from beside Isabella, but she quickly spots her dancing with a brunette man not far from the buffet. Isabella goes to the buffet to entertain herself, since no one came to ask her to dance. She stands at the desert bar, picking out a bunch of different appetizing desserts: a piece of Spanish cream custard, grape juice soufflé, almond pudding, and a mince pie. Isabella munches on each desert as she watches her sister exchange partners in the dance.

Isabella is so into watching her sister that she barely hears the man talking to her, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that please?” she says as she turns to look at the man standing behind her, a fruit sherbert in his hand.

The jet-black haired man looks at her, as if studying her every move, trying to understand her. “I said,” he says after he clears his throat, “May I have a dance with you, my lady?” 

Isabella sets down her plate of desserts, as she looks at the stranger’s outstretched hands, “I mean it’s a ball.” She says as she takes his hand and lets him lead her to the centre of the ballroom.

Isabella places one arm on his shoulders, and the other intertwined with his hand, while his other hand is on her waist. Isabella learned dancing when she was 6, but she never danced with a man before. She adjusts her footing, careful not to step on the man’s feet. Right. Left. Back. Twirl. As Isabella twirls and is held by the stranger, she can’t help but stare at his beautiful amber eyes, shining like a blazing sun on a hot day.

Could it be the same amber eyes that gently wiped Isabella’s tears and comforted her in that hall, seven years ago? But these are also the same amber eyes that belong to the crown prince of Edevan. The crown prince in which this party is dedicated to. The crown prince who’s finding a bride in this ball. And he asked to dance with her- out of all the women in the ball, he asked her for a dance.

Isabella’s mind goes blank trying to remember what that would mean, that she almost steps on the prince’s feet. What if they send her to the dungeons for it? She wouldn’t want that to happen.
Isabella clears her mind and comes back to the present, to find the prince staring right back at her. He must be seeing Darly in her eyes, because her sister and her have the same grey eyes.
They dance for what feels like hours in silence. Finally, the prince breaks the silence, “What is your name, my lady?”

“Isabella Corvus, your highness.” She says with a little bow as she adjusts her footing. Right. Left. Right again. 

“I’m Arden.” He says with a soft smile, melting the fire in his eyes. Just Arden. No prince. No last name. nice and simple but extremely inappropriate.

The prince twirls her around, then holds her by the waist. Right. Left. She looks at her feet to maintain her footing.

Suddenly the lights go off,  and Isabella hears screams coming from everywhere, in the mess. Someone steps on her foot and she loses her footing. A person catches her before she hits the ground, lacing his hands with her hands before yelling, “What is going on?!” His voice demands, like a roar, to the open crowd. The screams quickly halt at the sound of the crown prince’s voice, but Isabella feels disturbed about not seeing anything. She clutches the prince’s hand tighter.

“What is happening?” She whispers to herself. The prince seems to hear her, for he starts moving, taking her with him, he seems to have night vision as he strolls through the people that he doesn’t even see. Isabella walks after him in silence, trying to spot anything in the frenzy.

Finally, she sees light at the end of the hall she and the prince are walking in. they’re out of the ball. The prince lets go of her hand as he sees another man coming in the same lighted place from the other end of the hallway, the crimson-haired woman from earlier right at his heels.
Isabella feels the prince’s breath on her ears before he talks, “Stay here. I’ll come back to find you.” He whispers before leaving, not waiting to listen to what Isabella has to say. The other man does the same, leaving the crimson-haired woman with Isabella.

“Dang it.” The woman says before taking off her heels and sitting at the sofa across from Isabella, “me’ legs died with all that dancing.”

Isabella notices the woman’s accent; she doesn’t seem to be from here. The woman notices Isabella staring at her. Then clears her throat, “Sorry, mate. Didn’t notice ye’ here. I’m Ash. And ye’?”

“um…Isabella Corvus.”

An emotion crosses Ash’s features, shock, or disbelief, before disappearing as if they never existed. “So, that man with ye’, that was…?”

“His highness, crown prince Arden. And you?”

The woman smiles so wide, “Prince Regi… nald.” 

“Oh.” Isabella says, so that woman was dancing with the young prince before lights cut out. That explains why they were both brought here by the brothers.
Isabella hears panting, coming from the hallway she arrived from with Prince Arden. Ash is on her feet in a moment, as if ready to fight. Her muscles relax as she sees who came from the hallways, “Oh it’s ye’.”

Isabella gets up from the cushioned sofa she was sitting on, to see who came. Her face lights up as she sees her sister’s face, mask less and confused, but Isabella was relieved her sister made it out.

“Darly!”

She says as she throws her arms around her sister’s. But her sister doesn’t look at her but rather at Ash, “So you guys know each other?” she asks, her voice cautious.

“Darly, this is Ash. Ash, this is my older sister- Darlene Corvus. Ash came here with Reginald.” Isabella says as she watches Darly and Ash stare at each other with some emotion burning in their eyes, that she couldn’t quite understand.
“I see. Ash.” Darly says before she turns around and grabs Isabella’s hands, “Let’s go. The light’s back.” Isabella looks back at Ash to find her gone, vanished, just like the darkness that had filled the ballroom. 

Darly leads Isabella back to the now lighted ballroom. But something’s changed. People’s faces are filled with only one apparent emotion, fear. Isabella follows their gazes and looks at the once white marble floor- now stained with a sticky crimson liquid. Isabella gasps, as the memory of her father’s lesson strikes her mind as hard as a hammer on the head.

‘Containing haemoglobin which makes it red in colour, the red blood cells can easily be spilled from a small wound. Bigger the wound, the more blood flows.’ He would say as he grabs her finger and pricks it with a pin. Her finger would secrete blood, she would suck at it, so the blood flow stops, ‘the blood tastes metallic, because of the iron in the red blood cells.’
Blood travels polished marble like a snake, covering the floor she stands on. Bigger the wound, the more blood flows. Isabella goes closer to the source of blood, discarding her sister’s hand. She reaches the source of the blood, surrounded by crowds of noblemen and women. In the centre of the crowd, a man lies there, bleeding on the floor. 
Too much blood. 

Isabella looks at the dead corpse in front of her, too scared to move away from the sight. And falls to her knees, throat locked tight as if to trap her inaudible scream .

*Chapter edited by bbashii be sure to give her a follow*