Prince of Fire

Chapter 3

Servants took care of a half-dazed Laurent, lost to his imaginings.

Minutes after Victoria left him wide eyed and wishful, he was swept from the infirmary to his own rooms where two servants bathed him. Then he was whisked away to sit before a mirror where sturdy hands combed his hair, tied it into a knot, and placed a mask of fiery copper on the upper over his eyes. The mask swept upward in an array of dancing flames, forming the illusion of a crown atop his head.

Then he was dressed. To Laurent's eternal surprise, the clothes given to him actually looked good. Black, close fitted pants and polished shoes. The red doublet, similar in style to his preferred ones, matched the red of his mask.

All glammed up, he made his way to the banquet hall where the celebrations would be held. Guards bowed as he walked past, lords and ladies made small conversation when they beheld him, complementing his appearance, asking of his mother, offering their gratitude (for what, he didn't know). He tried to listen, tried to take in the words spoken his way. But all his thoughts were on Victoria. He couldn't stop seeing the smile she gave him before she disappeared, the promise of her words.

Come to the ball. He was currently on his way, walking down wood paneled corridors, the night wind howling through the opened windows.

Ask me to dance. He most certainly would. As soon as the dancing began, he would sweep her away before any other could.

Then we'll see what happens.

Guards posted on either the side, the door stood open to the attenders. A cacophony of voices and merry music echoed through the chamber despite the thrown open glass doors at the other end of the room. Beyond them loomed the darkness of the night sky, the moon and stars shining silver. Although it was the end of winter, the breeze in the hall was pleasant. Orbs of white light floated high up on the ceiling, illuminating the soft beige walls, the polished parquetted floor- perfect for dancing.

"Son, you look well." The deep, cold voice came from behind him and Laurent turned to face his father. He wore his crown of living flames, the light casting harsh shadows on his sharp features. The circles under his blazing eyes looked black, the cut of his mouth was sharp as a blade, his untinted cheeks stark against the shadows beneath it. The royal cape hung from his shoulders over an immaculate suit of the darkest of black fabric. As he walked, a trail of fire burst in his wake.

"Father," Laurent greeted, keeping his gaze on the wall beside the King's head. He hated seeing the face he perfectly resembled. It was like glancing in a mirror and seeing the man he would grow up to be. But Laurent did not want to be anything like his father.

"Shall we?" He gestured to the open doors.

One of the guards stepped forward and announced their arrival, "Nobles of Lariz welcome our King and Queen's allies: the King and the Crown Prince of Valhara."

As the King and Crown Prince of Valhara entered, all conversation halted- even the musicians stopped their fiddling. They all stood and bowed. It was tradition: Laurent and his father appeared first to the masquerade ball, silencing the crowd, making sure they were all alert and ready for the arrival of their own King and Queen.

Once the King of Fire and his son descended the steps from the raised entrance, the royals of Lariz appeared. King and Queen Croilon stood side by side at the lead, matching crowns on their heads and seashells clasping their cape og waves to their shoulders. They both wore the royal blue of their kingdom, the royal insignia of a mermaid's tail surrounded by corals shining over their heart.

Rose clutched Queen Kaitlyn's hand, but she looked confident and regal in her green dress, the skirts puffed up around her small body. As promised, she wore her first mask: a delicately carved golden mask running over her cheeks and nose and around her green eyes. A matching golden tiara was placed on her auburn curls. She did indeed look beautiful, like she said she would.