"Queens and commoners, princes and peasants, welcome to the party of the quincentury!"
For most people, receiving an invitation to the White King's Masquerade is an honor. Even attempting to attend is a chance to go down in history. But for Sol of M...
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I finished braiding my long, curly mess of hair as I stared into the cracked mirror in front of me. Blue stained eyes stared back at me. Sighing, I looked away. They wouldn't have expected much from Mycroft anyway.
"Sol, come on!" an all too familiar voice shrieked.
If there's anything Ceres hates more than being kept waiting, it's being kept waiting by me.
Pushing myself up, I glanced back at the mirror hoping to see the victor we needed and instead seeing only myself. I turned away sharply, as if stung, instead focusing my attention on the room I was in.
It was not large, or beautiful. But it was ours, Ceres and mine. And I loved it. I shuffled across the hardwood flooring, being careful to step over the weak spots and holes, towards the bed on which she had told me marvelous stories of far away lands. Now I was going to get to see them all for myself. The thought filled me with excitement... and dread. Mostly dread though.
I stroked the worn blanket , trying to soak up every ounce of homey comfort I could, before turning to the dresser beside me. Its white paint was chipping and every inch of its rugged surface was covered with various trinkets.
"Sol, do not make me come in there."
Grabbing the first thing I could get my hands on and stuffing it into my satchel, I strode out the front door, into the biggest day of my life.
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It was unusually busy for a midsummer morning. The town seemed... different. We actually bumped into people on our way to the square.
Luke and Madge, the couple that ran Ceres and I's favorite bakery, smiled as we passed. Their eyes were enchanted white, which meant they were going out of the state. Madge shook suddenly, coughing violently while Luke rubbed her shoulders.
I can imagine that some would think it was unethical for our council to keep the plague a secret, but telling the other states would only cause an unnecessary panic.
The plague could only infect Mycroftian commoners, so maybe curse was a more apt description.
I turned away as cheers of "You've got this!" and "Way to go Sol!" ambushed us from every corner, harmonizing with the usual symphony of coughs and moans. Cheers I struggled to embrace while Ceres dragged me further into town.
Today I looked at the cobblestone streets and straw roofs with a new appreciation. I might actually miss Mycroft.
My thoughts were cut short as we arrived at the square and I saw the Countess standing on the stage, flanked on each side by courtiers and guards. It was really happening. I squeezed through the crowd of sniffling townspeople, finally reaching the stage.
"Welcome Sol of Mycroft," she said warmly, her bright green eyes kind. "Are you ready for the journey you're about to undertake?"
