pale october twilight

sgetober day thirty one: one true king

Agatha finds herself rather dismayed with the most anticipated ball of the year.

The music is rather dreary, and she can't find her sister anywhere, and so she stands with her back to the wall, hoping her black feather mask and off put expression will keep her isolated.

But the asshole in the lions mask keeps making eye contact with her, all while smiling obnoxiously and dancing through the throngs of people in the crowd. Agatha just snorts and laughs, but starts to shrink away when she notices he's making his way towards her.

"Evenin' milady." He greets, squeezing in between a dancing pair of bluebirds. "How does this fine evening find you?"

"Do I know you?" Agatha asks bluntly, observing him. His clothes are richer, with these fancy gold buttons that shine ridiculously well under the white chandelier. The gold is lining his suit, and his mask looks like it's made out of it. Generally, he's very hard to focus on.

He tilts his head. "You mean, you don't recognize me?"

"What, are you some big-shot King?" Agatha asks, crossing her arms.

He stiffens, and looks away. "Maybe."

Agatha nods, clasping her hands. "As expected."

He crosses his arms as well and looks Agatha up and down. "Well then, what are you, some type of witch?"

Agatha sort of likes his electric eyes under the gold mask. He seems familiar. "Duh." She points to her pointed hat that made her unpopular with the rest of the stuffy royals. "The rumor is that I'll put a curse on you if you talk to me."

He laughs. "Anything fun here is scandalous. I wish I was a villager. They get to have All Hallows Eve feast, with games, and all sorts of treats." he says wistfully.

"They are fun," Agatha says, remembering her ninth year, with her front missing tooth and her mother holding her hand in the hay maze. Straw in her hair from digging for a pumpkin. It was a good day. They had two entire apple pies. Agatha can still taste and smell them when she thinks of that day, of her mother.

He actually claps at that, even though Agatha can't hear it over the sweltering music. "You've been? Ah, you're so lucky! I haven't left the castle in ages."

"Why not?" Agatha asks, curiosity piqued.

"They have been assassins after my father's death, all vying from the throne." He informs her solemnly. "My steward used to tell me to go outside is death, or something..." he trails off, gloved hands scratching his chin. "Though of course, she could've been trying to gain more control over me."

"It's staying inside that will finish you off." Agatha retorts, heading to the punch bowl.

He follows her, still talking. "That could be it too."

"Why are you following me?" Agatha asks, pouring a pink substance into an adorably small glass.

"I don't know. I'm just trying to avoid my brothers. Plus, I've tried that eye contact dance thing with like, four girls, and you're the only one who laughed! What's up with that?" he blabbers, leaning against a pillar.

"It was a pity laugh." Agatha informs him. The crowd cheers and she winces. "Ugh. This is a headache. I'm taking the carriage home.".

"No, don't leave!" The boy pouts. "I can show you somewhere quieter!"

"Uh, no way, Romeo- " Agatha begins to protest.

"Ok, sorry, not like that. But you're the most fascinating person I've met in forever ." he groans. "If you leave, I'll die of boredom."