Hanging in the Stars

Chapter One

In the height of the moon, in the middle of a great November, a masquerade speaks its truth.

    The news spread quickly that a masquerade ball would be held within days, the rumors flying across buildings like a flu never could. While the Dair Vaudeville heard of such a thing days before, a simple worry of encounter flitters through their heads. While each member of the family parts ways in the ballroom so grand and wide, the children can only feel their parent's piercing stares from behind. Beatrice and Kassandra are unable to have fun without worry.

    Chandeliers flickering above their heads, Beatrice stands near one of the large drapes, taking in the cold that seeped through the window. Her gray eyes scan the room with wonder, analyzing most of the crowd – Danah Lawrence, a girl her age, once a dancer in her family's accord, walks around alone in her dress so red and fine, and beside her, Evelyn Dair, mother of Beatrice and Kassandra. Her daughters exhibited features mostly from their mother, the general audience proud and glad that they inherited such. With Beatrice's golden brown skin and dark waves of hair, most people would say she was the exact replica of Evelyn; unfortunately with that, it brought a heavy burden of expectations on her shoulders the second Beatrice opened her eyes.

    She watches everyone dance gracefully across the ballroom, the sound of heels against marble flooring reminding her of a previous performance she did. She quietly hums to the tune of the music to herself, tapping her finger on her arm while a smile creeps on her face. It was known that if she walked out there, it would be too much. The place was crowded from the second floor to the ground level, and knowing the status of her own parents gave enough reasoning she had to give to herself. They have these parties every year anyway, they don't need me.

    Pushing her way through a group of people, Kassandra, her younger sister by three years, picks up her dress and delightfully marches towards her.

    "Mum's looking for you."

    Beatrice reached out combed through one of her sister's brown curls and sighed. "Already? I just escaped them minutes ago."

Kassandra took the drink from her sister's hand and slumped her shoulders. "It's your turn I believe. They made me dance continuously for almost half an hour since they believe I have more potential in the ballroom." She shook her head. "I would like to propose the idea that I don't, please."

Beatrice laughed, "Wouldn't you want another addition to your list of your many, many talents?" She raised a brow with a tease. This had been an ongoing joke between the two of them ever since their parents decided that they needed to excel – at least know – every act they held in the vaudeville, despite the fact that they'd only perform in one area either way.

Holding onto the few minutes they could stall, Beatrice searched the crowd for anyone else she could approach. "Isn't that Taylor Wils? He's back from London already?"

Kassandra followed her sister's gaze and nodded. "Yeah, I heard about that from Eliza last week, why do you ask?"

Beatrice wiped her hands on the pink fabric of her dress, before realizing that it probably wasn't best to do so in case of a stain. She looked over to her sister who wore one almost identical to hers instead it was in a color between gold and yellow. Their Aunt Rosalie from Paris designed the majority of their costumes and gowns and the one they wore that day was the last one she designed before she passed during a fire. It was a gorgeous one too, a chiffon dress that covered the hips close, ruffling at the ends as it got closer to the ground, an extra dimension by adding a ruffled or poofed up cape around the chest and shoulders. Beatrice adjusted the poofy dress cape on her sister's dress before speaking again. "Does that mean that-"