The Girl in the Golden Mask (ON HIATUS)

➳ one.

The night was warm and sultry causing the light fabric of Elena Blakesley's dress to stick to her skin no matter how hard she tried to extricate herself from its grasp. With an angry scowl, she gave up trying to free herself from the constraints of the offending garment and continued her march up to the palace. More than once she had cursed Master Wylann for sending her there. And during the Midsummer Festival too. Taking part in the silly Creissean holiday had never sounded appealing to her, but there she was with her face hidden behind a mask just like everyone else. At least she took comfort in the two hidden daggers she had, a short one hidden in her right boot and another longer one strapped to her leg underneath her dress.

It was a few weeks after King Aleksey's coronation and already there was word of a plot to assassinate him. Elena idly wondered what he did to annoy someone some much as to kill him for it. Gods, it must have been something real bad as it had only been three weeks since King Lysander died and his son had taken his place. She shook her head to rid herself of those thoughts; she needed to focus. As a member of the Ath Seyan, she was sworn to protect the people of Creissea from evil and harm, including King Aleksey. And it just so happened that she and her unit were the ones chosen to protect him.

"Tell me again why we have to wear these gods awful masks," Nadia Blackwell asked and tugged at the green ribbon tying her mask to her face. It was really a pretty thing made of artfully placed leaves, flowers, and berries, created and sustained by her own nature magic.

"These dresses are just as bad if not worse," Maeve Hawthorne sneered from behind her black feathered mask, though it wasn't much of a surprise as the warrior always had a perpetual scowl of some sort etched onto her face. "How could anyone defend themselves in this if all they do is trip over the gods damned thing?" Elena hummed in agreement. She herself, being a warrior, preferred the cool metal of a blade rather than the soft silk of a dress.

"You girls should stop complaining, it's not that bad," Finn Blakesley, Elena's older brother, said. Even though his silver mask covered half, if not most of his face, it was clear that he was giving them one of his famous lopsided grins.

"Shut up, Finn," Elena retorted, "you have no idea what it's like to wear this thing." She adjusted her mask so it sat a little more comfortably on her face. It was made of gold metal with wings sticking up on either side and feathers chiseled onto it, giving her the appearance of a golden eagle, the bird on the Creissean royal crest.

"Ugh, tell me again why Master Wylann chose us for this task," Maeve asked cynically. A dark expression passed over her face. "We could've been doing something more exciting, but no, we get to wear stupid masks and dresses and go visit the stupid palace."

"Come on, Maeve," Nadia said brightly, "at least we're not traipsing through the Feyland Desert like Cyrus and his unit."

"Yeah, but at least they're doing it in comfortable clothing," Maeve replied in a biting tone.

"Hey," Elena said, "when we get to the palace, we can't be bickering like children. No matter how much you all hate these masks and dresses, minus Finn who apparently is super comfortable—" Maeve shot him an accusatory glare to which he raised his arms in mock surrender. "—this is an assignment which we will complete in a professional manner, understood?"

"Yes, Mother," Maeve replied sarcastically which caused Elena to roll her eyes.

"Then come along children," she said, "we have a king to protect."

The liveliness of the people seemed to increase as the group reached Lyonsgard's main plaza. Vendors lined the streets, selling their goods just in time for the Midsummer Festival. With great difficulty—and much frustration on Maeve's part—they pushed through the throngs of people toward the road that led up to the palace.