SHADOW

Night

The light silk fabric floated in the breeze, and Sha felt suddenly desperate to cover herself—but glancing down at the gown's folds, she sighed. The dress feels so light, I'm practically naked, she thought, stepping into the courtyard.

"Does the mask cover me well?" she asked Sonya. "Am I recognizable?"

The girl peered at her and pursed her lips. "Well, if someone already knew you—judging by height, hair color, eye color, body shape, the curve of your lips—yes, they might recognize you. But only people who pay that much attention to you, like me." Sonya giggled.

She was dressed in a dark green gown, red wig, and a crown of pink flowers, her green-and-gold mask fitting perfectly.

"You're wearing a wig? Aren't you hot?" Sha asked, smiling. "It's very hot today."

The castle lights were dimmed, with colorful lanterns and lamps hanging everywhere. The atmosphere was magical—yet a bit sinister in shadowed corners. Sha wondered if the ghost was watching her, as promised, or off enjoying the festivities with the town's young ladies. She smirked and walked toward the bonfires flickering just beyond the garden's edge in the nearby fields.

"You don't have to walk so fast—my shoes aren't very comfortable," Sonya called, pointing to her green leather-strapped sandals, where red marks showed from rubbing.

Sha looked down at her white silk slippers and wondered how she could help her friend.

"We can walk slower, then return if you want. Or you can kick off your sandals and walk barefoot in the grass. We could both dance barefoot around the bonfire." Sha suggested with a smile.

Sonya laughed and they ran toward the fields. Young people in various mythical creature costumes—some with wings, horns, or glitter—scattered around them. It was a wild, joyous debauchery of light and darkness. Cheerful voices and chanting rose as people danced; instruments played everywhere. Tables laden with wine, food, and fruit were spread across the gardens and fields. Sha pointed out which foods were safe and which to avoid.

"These buns are absolutely wonderful. I could eat them all night; they're even better than old Martha's," Sonya whispered, giggling.

A group of young men sat nearby. One of them watched Sonya with obvious interest.

"I'll choke on this bun if he keeps staring at me," Sonya laughed, blushing.

"He's coming this way," Sha warned.

A young man approached. "Would you honor me with a dance, my lady?" he asked, stretching out his hand to Sonya.

"I–I'm afraid I can't leave my partner alone, sir," Sonya stammered and stepped back.

"Nonsense. Nothing will happen—you can go dance. And don't forget to kick off those awful sandals—I'll guard them." Sha smiled and pointed to the sandals.

"Alright, but just one dance," Sonya giggled. She removed her sandals and dropped them beside Sha.

"I'll be right back, thank you, my lady," she whispered, walking away with the man dressed as a fawn.

Sha savored the last bite of her bun. "Maybe you'd like some?" she offered as a large male hand covered hers.

She looked up at the intruder. Of course it was him. She would recognize those hands anywhere—the same hands that had held hers all evening in the ballroom. Beautiful hands, though she'd never dared meet his eyes. This was her safe place.

"Would you dance with me?" he asked softly, green eyes shining. "I need to know I haven't wasted my effort."

She tried to meet his gaze, but her lashes fell instead. Why was she always so foolish around him? Why don't I own my body around him? she wondered, biting her lip.

"We can dance... but just one dance. My friend will be waiting." She glanced at his face. Being the center of his attention was unsettling—she felt like a bright tomato, not a summer princess.

He took her by the waist and led her into the swirl of dancers. Bodies twirled in chaotic circles around fires, laughter and music weaving through the night. He smelled like hay and sunshine, warm and alive—everything melted away.

They danced barefoot and lost track of time. The music carried them away. The world blurred: just his embrace, pure joy, an unending night full of color and fire. Her hand reached out to hold him tighter.

He suddenly pulled her close, whispering in her ear: "Are you happy?"

"Yes," she breathed, her mouth brushing his cheek. He smelled so good—not just good, but wonderful.

"What did you want to ask me the other night?" he queried, a dim sparkle lighting his eyes.

"I...I've been wondering...when you kissed the corner of my mouth—were you aiming for my cheek or my lips?" she asked, voice soft, looking straight into his eyes.

Time froze. Then his lips crushed against hers in a rush of pure emotion. There was no up or down—no beginning or end. She kissed him back, swept away by the moment.

In that instant, nothing else mattered. It was irrational, unforgettable. If you'd told her she'd kiss a man she barely knew as if her life depended on it, she'd have laughed. Yet here she was, no longer in control of her heart, mind—or body.