It Started With A Mask (A Cinderella Story) [revised]

Chapter Five

I could feel their eyes on me, as I slowly walked into the hall. I resisted the urge to flee, and held my head high like the courtier I was pretending to be. There goes blending in. I realised my mistake now. It would have been better to have joined Mouse and his family; I would have less attention on my arrival.

The music slowly started up again, as I slowly made my way into the ballroom, and couples slowly went back to dancing, and I slowly made my way over to the refreshments table, where I planned to linger for the remainder of the evening, hopefully without any invitations to dance. 

"Mademoiselle?" I squeezed my eyes shut, cursing my bad luck, before turning with a polite smile, and eyed up the gentleman who had dashed my hopes of making it through the night without any disasters. Unfortunately, I had inherited my father’s dancing abilities. How he attracted my mother at a ball, I’ll never know.

"Monsieur?" A tall man, around his late 20's, or early 30's, stood there wearing a dark suit, perfectly fitted to his broad shouldered physique, with the twin coat tails brushing the back of his knees. He also had a grey waist-coat, a deep blue cravat, and a black furred panther mask. From what I could tell, with high slicked back brown hair, and dark blue eyes, he seemed exactly my perception of a high class member of court. He was most likely a Lord or some high ranking courtier. From the look of him, he was in search of a wife like the Prince.

This ball after all, was a traditional match-making scheme concocted decades ago, and sometimes even the lower classed citizens found love amongst the sea of fine coloured garments, and this night was often the beginning of beautiful relationships…unless of course it was just used to organise a meeting with their arranged bride or groom. Not the preferred method, but in this day, despite no longer being the fashion of the time, arranged marriages still occur where those in need of money seek out rich buyers.

The man bowed impressively low from the waist, his dark eyes glittering through the eye holes of the mask.

"Mademoiselle, my name is Lord Andre Guillame. Will you do me the incredible of honour of joining me in a dance?" My eyes took in his straight backed demeanour, and the cunning way his eyes flashed as he looked down at me. I knew the kind of rogue man a spoiled lifestyle created, and this was one such man.

I didn’t have to see the man’s face to know that a confident smirk currently stretched across his face. Everything from the way he stood, to the way he talked showed that he expected me to say yes. If I were truly a lady of the court searching for a husband, then I would have agreed, due to my lack of knowledge to those types of men. But I was entirely aware of this knowledge, and even if I weren’t, it would become apparent very early on in our dance, that my abilities in moving across the floor are severely lacking.

I was at a loss as to how to avoid dancing with the man, when Mouse appeared beside him. 

"I am sorry Lord Guillame, but my Lady has promised me the first dance" Mouse looked striking in his Alexandre of the Mask outfit. However, next to Lord Guillame, his height did not quite match, and Lord Guillame seemed to revel in the fact, as he straightened his shoulders, and stared down at my friend. The mask on his face looked dark and forbidding in comparison to Mouse’ open face and simple cloth mask stretched across his eyes.

I caught Mouse’ eye gratefully, and grasped at the excuse. I bowed my head apologetically at Lord Guillame. His demeanour had turned from confident and welcoming, to quietly hostile as his eyes narrowed imperceptibly at Mouse, and I raised an eyebrow at his reaction, before schooling my face into one of contrition.

"Yes, I am truly sorry my Lord, but I have promised this dance to the young Alexandre of the Mask" I apologised to the man, and Lord Guillame bowed in acceptance, albeit a little stiffly, and I eyed the slight turning down of his lips warily. He seemed rather displeased in missing a dance, having just met me.