Prelude (Underworld Lucian Fanfiction)

89 - Chapter LXXXIX: Circumstance and Diplomacy

Ten minutes later.

Sabine's expression had gone from helpful to confused. And to be fair, there was...again...good reason. Instead of meeting in the foyer, Reinette had made a hissing noise from the top of a winding staircase. And Sabine, still in a panic over the quadrille, had missed the first hiss. Unable to hear beyond the hubbub of masked couples milling towards the Great Hall. Most of them chattering away as they prepared to join a reception line...

...the first half of the ball.

Dinner.

Twelve excessively long tables decorated in the style of the night. Each swathed in white with lanterns and wreathes interwoven along its centre. Royal bone tableware, golden cutlery and crystal glasses. Christmas taking a step back, while dozens...possibly a hundred people...made their way to their seats. Not just the guests staying in the house, but the ones who'd travelled for the occasion. The pinnacle of lycan society. And perhaps once, the Hangrove Society Ball had been a calm affair...

...even benign, the kind of engagement approved by a more traditional generation.

But it did not feel like it.

The theme still holding a fairytale quality in its tone. Every gentleman a beast of winter and every lady a belle of spring. But an underlying horror to the occasion. As though in demanding a masquerade, Erling had added a dangerous note to the symphony that surrounded them. A cacophony of masks formed out of porcelain, velvet or papier-mâché. Feathers on some. Gold on others. Even silver for those who dared. Their joyful expressions full of movement, yet unnaturally still. Making it difficult to see who was in the hall. Some changing their voices as they spoke, trying to remain anonymous, for the night involved an added layer of amusement for those with privilege, those who found it delightful to guess who they were talking to depending on their scent.

And Reinette incapable of following the game, let alone her next choices...without Rena. Able to see the clock in the Great Hall and reason that Rena had already started her shift...and was therefore out of reach. An ironic circumstance heavily formed out of lycan culture, that which assumed a guard was unnecessary, as long as she was escorted by someone as esteemed as Erling, the heir of the North...

...who might be lying dead on the south-eastern side of the house for all she knew. Any footprints or blood already covered by falling snow by the time she'd peered out the broken window. Her plan to quietly signal Sabine taking an additional minute before the girl followed the hiss. Creeping up the staircase...and nearly yelping as Reinette pulled her to the side. Leading them to a shadowy corner, so she could whisper.

"I need Rena..."

"Why," the girl started to ask. As usual requiring a copious amount of detail before she would move. "...what happened?"

She was...

Trying to get more words out...

...and suddenly breathing too fast. Sabine looking shocked. But it was...not the time...for questions, she thought. Trying to say it out loud. But it felt like her throat was starting to close. The panic setting in because... She needed Rena ...and blood, could the girl not just...

...listen.

"I don't..."

Remember.

And it was awful.

The strangest...most benign...thoughts starting to surface. Because they ought to have been talking of benign things. The precision of the girl's movements. That in the two minutes before she'd called her, the steps had seemed perfectly fine and unlikely to make the front page of the Line Rumour under the headline "Lycan-master's Wanton Ward Fumbles Again" as Sabine had so eloquently put it earlier.