[1.8k words]
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I'm in an alley way between two closed buildings right across from Hedrick Hall. I watch people go through the entrance in black cloaks and expensive formal clothing(with a gold mask accessory). Some cloaks are short, some are closed, and some are open. Some masks are big with feathers, others have designs, and some just look like mine. Swirly patterns adorn the sides but other than that it's just a gold mask that covers the top half of my face.
I change in that dark alley way, slipping on a tie over the white button up I knew to wear, and changing out of my walking shoes. I hope my skinny jeans are formal enough, and the blazer I packed. I also slip on the cloak, which fits well. Sometimes it's helpful that me and Phil are practically the same size. I slip on his mask as well, hoping I'll fit in.
I know carrying a backpack in will definitely blow my cover, so I leave it in the alley, hidden under some junk. I hope to God it doesn't get stolen. There's nothing of importance in there except for my shoes and charger, but I still like having my things. (I ate the crisps and drank the water whilst waiting).
I step up and people are entering, muttering things to a man before he lets them in. I hope it isn't a password check because I have no idea what it is. When it's my turn, the man looks at me unamusedly.
"Regiment?"
"London." I say coolly.
"Host?"
"Peculium Stranger."
"Here for the wedding?" He asks.
I pause, "What?"
"Here for the wedding?"
I gulp, "Yeah."
"Street name for source of work?"
What? I stare at him, terrified. What he hell does that mean?
"Street name for source of work." He repeats.
"Elyiòn." I say quickly, and I can already see him dragging me away at my wrong answer.
He nods, "Enter."
I don't think I'd ever been so surprised in my life. I nod at him back like I don't feel like jumping up and pumping my fist in the air. Relief washes over me. I never knew I was this good a guesser.
I step in and god I feel like a child. Everything astonishes me. The art work on the ceiling is breathtaking and the room is amazing. Domed roof and huge floor space, where men and women are dancing happily. There's two stages, one for a small strings band and one with an alter of black roses. Everyone is masked, and cloaked. I blend in immediately. The music is classical and fun, and it looks like something out of a movie.
You know, those masquerade balls you see in old tales, except definitely modernized. Some of the girls are wearing sparkly dresses and not frilly huge gowns and powdered wigs like in those books and movies. And some people have their phones out, taking pictures. Pictures. Exactly how was this party completely private but you're allowed to take selfies? What was it?
Some girl walks by me, a red dress under her shorter black cloak and smiles at me. I return it. The people here didn't seem like scary kidnappers. So why the hell did they stab Phil and take him here? Why did everyone know him already too?
And that's when I notice
him.
Tall with black hair, standing like an actor in the spotlight, eyes pointed towards the sky. He has his hands in the pockets of dark blue slacks, and the whole suit in general looked expensive.
He's wearing a white mask that definitely makes his blue eyes pop, and it's got glittering pearls on one side. He fashions a long white cloak, only a few shades lighter than his pale skin. Pearls glitter on the fabric of the cloak like the mask. He's just so handsome looking, the way the light in the room seems to shine on him. Maybe it's my imagination, but he looks like a prince.
