𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒

第十 | ACT ONE FINALE

I'll say again but comments really do motivate the fuck out of me... so go wild and comment please! play this song above!

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PAST

"What's your name?"

"I'm sorry?"

June, July, then August. Summer had dissolved in your mouth and you couldn't remember what it had tasted like. It was now the long awaited masquerade ball of the season—both men and women alike waltzed into the balls, clad in elegant attire and hiding their faces behind masks. Currently you adjusted the mask resting on your ears, and offered a polite smile.

"Your name," the stranger clarified. He donned a golden mask—and you couldn't help but ogle at his fine, beautiful features. Even with his eyes behind a mask you could tell he was majestic.

"...Ah," You laughed. "That would defeat the purpose of a masquerade ball, would it not?"

"Then allow me get to know you better."

You glanced around, your gaze lingering on Claude. You waited—for what exactly, you didn't know—for him to turn around, but he didn't. You turned back to the man.

"Why not?" You gave a small sigh, swirling the wine in your glass. "I don't have anything better to do, so this suits me fine."

"Who are you looking yet?" The man's tone was inquiring, curious. "Do you have someone in mind to offer you a dance?"

"It was wishful thinking," you said honestly. You would never have been so frank with your feelings—but under the guise of being strangers, and with the safety of the mask, today would be a day you could afford to let your walls down. "They wouldn't have said yes."

The stranger raised a perfect eyebrow. "You didn't even specify the gender. Did you think that I would have been able to guess the person?"

"We're quite close," you admitted. "Or at least, we were raised in close proximity."

Too many times you and Claude had played as kids, balancing crowns on each other's head, watching as yours wobbled and fell to the ground, while his stayed. The flowery soil beneath your feet would always swallow your crown whole, but it did not matter—the crown would stay on Claude's head. It was his birthright. You couldn't remember how you fell in love with him—it was childish infatuation, at first, but when you found it hurt to let go of his hand, that's when you knew your feelings had changed and were replaced with growing, fluttering butterflies.

The warmth on your cheeks, your hand with his. Soon your adolescence had disappeared and your childhood was whisked away. It was time to grow up, to cast your feelings and bottle them up. But it still hurt to see him, for he was as brilliant as the sun, as cool as the moon, as glorious as the stars.

"An unrequited love?"

"Yes. But I've made my peace with that." You smiled genially, shrugging. "People make a fuss about a unshared love, but it's easier to clamp it down..." you paused. "To forget."

"If so, then," The stranger bowed his head. His hand brushed against yours briefly, and you felt his lips touch your skin. No one in the Eastern Empire did so—and you immediately realised that this dignified man in front of you, was a noble elsewhere. "Would you grant me a dance?"

You thought again to Claude, and your useless wish of dancing with him.

The man smiled at you, and you smiled back.

"Yes, of course."

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PRESENT