LADY ESTORA’S MASQUE
Lady Estora Coutre was thrilled by how well her
efforts to create a memorable masquerade ball were being received
by her guests. The comments she overheard about the event
proclaimed the food unsurpassed and the decorations beyond clever.
Dancers filled the dance floor without fail and it was great fun
trying to figure out who was behind each mask.
Her father might
grumble about all the parties, but she’d tired of the gloomy winter
and the hard, unyielding walls of the castle. She was determined to
bring light and festivity into her life. If she was going to be
spending the rest of her days here, she might as well make the best
of it.
Now if she could
find Zachary, there was something she wanted to show
him.
Someone touched her
wrist, a woman with a swan mask. “My lady, a most excellent masque.
Why, it’s been years and years since there has been one to attend
in all of Sacor City. Thank you for organizing it.”
The compliment
warmed Estora, and she almost wanted to skip like a little girl,
for it had come from Lady Creen, who was usually very critical of
anything that came to her attention.
Estora found Colin
Dovekey at one of the tables, with his blue eye mask, filling a cup
with punch.
“Have you seen
Zachary?” she asked him.
“I believe he
stepped out for air,” Colin replied. “Would you care for some
punch?” He offered her his cup.
“No, thank you.” She
left Colin and worked her way through the room, greeting guests as
she went. She was hardly surprised Zachary would step outside for
air. He seemed to enjoy parties well enough, but now and then he
required a respite from the crowds.
A Weapon opened a
balcony door for her. She shivered when she stepped out into the
cold. Zachary turned toward her. He was not wearing his mask, and
she couldn’t say she blamed him, for it was heavy and must be
hot.
Their costumes had
been inspired by legends of the sea kings. Ever since Lord
Amberhill’s visit and gifts, she couldn’t seem to remove the
stories from her mind, so she’d turned Zachary into one of the
legendary kings and herself into one of the witches of the sea that
beguiled unwary mariners onto the shoals of islands, capturing them
body and soul.
“Zachary,” she said.
“It is so cold out here. You’ll catch a chill!”
“Oh, I don’t think
so. The air is bracing.”
“Even so, you are
missed, and there is something you should see.” She took his arm
and guided him toward the door.
“Very well.” He
grabbed his mask as he went, and then paused. When she turned to
see what was the matter, she observed him bowing to the darkness.
She squinted and discerned a figure in shadow at the far end of the
balcony.
“What was that
about?” she asked him after they entered the ballroom.
He chuckled. “I just
had an audience with Queen Oddacious.”
“Queen Oddacious?
Oh, yes, what a peculiar costume. She was out there?”
“Yes. Apparently a
rather shy person despite the costume.”
Estora would find
out who it was later. It wasn’t unusual for Zachary to strike up a
conversation with just about anyone. He had as much respect for the
lowly tradesman as those of the noble class, an admirable quality
in a king. So she wasn’t surprised he’d found someone to speak with
out on the balcony, and she could certainly see how that costume
would pique his interest, because it certainly piqued hers. Still,
there he’d been out in the dark, just him and some unknown woman
...
She nearly laughed
aloud. Could it be she felt a tinge of jealousy? She and Zachary
had been spending more time together than ever, sharing afternoon
tea, he bringing her to meetings and audiences, and seeking her
counsel on matters of court. Of course she did not expect him to
change his stance on any of his decisions, but there were times
when her observations had made a difference. She was enjoying her
role as she prepared to become queen, and a real friendship was
blossoming between the two of them that would certainly ease the
transition into marriage.
At one time Estora
had been reluctant to marry, but that was before her abduction. Now
she was grateful to be alive and safe. And, she had been touched by
Zachary’s concern for her upon her return. She didn’t think it was
entirely his apprehension over what her father would do if she
didn’t return safely, either.
She appreciated his
solicitous attentions. If there was still a part of him that
remained aloof, she thought that, too, would change with time.
After all it would be unseemly for him to act too familiar with her, and because of who they
were, they were under particular scrutiny from all
quarters.
“What is it you wish
me to see?” Zachary asked.
“Something
entertaining,” she replied. That was, if she could find the tumbler
with the looking mask. Perhaps it was silly of her to draw him into
such a trivial amusement, but when she gazed into the looking mask,
she swore she saw something more than just her own reflection: just
a brief flash of herself beaming down at an infant in her arms. An
infant with soft golden hair. At least she thought that’s what she
saw. Maybe she had seen only what she wished to see. Regardless,
the image had brought her much delight and she hoped Zachary would
see something similar.
The looking masks
she had gazed into when a girl attending masquerades back home had
never produced such a vision, but she and her friends would make
them up anyway. Once she had pretended she’d seen herself becoming
queen. Funny that it was coming true.
“Where is he?”
Estora muttered.
As if in answer to
her query, the tumbler appeared out of the crowd with a backflip
and landed before them.
Estora clapped her
hands. “Well done!” To Zachary she said, “I’ve had my turn with the
looking mask. Now it’s yours.”
Zachary half-smiled.
“I haven’t looked into one of these since I was a
boy.”
“And what did you
see?”
“A boy. A boy hoping
to see something great.”
They exchanged grins
and then he looked into the mask. Some guests collected around them
to observe their king participating in so frivolous a
game.
As Estora watched
Zachary, she saw all signs of pleasure had fled his features. He
gazed into the mirror unblinking, as though
transfixed.
“He seems quite in
love with himself,” one of Estora’s cousins jested. “Perhaps there
will be no room for you at the wedding!”
There was laughter
from those in hearing range, but Zachary did not join in. He did
not move, and an uneasy silence followed until a few moments later
the tumbler leaped away.
Zachary watched
after him, looking as if he’d just awakened from a
dream.
“What did you see,
Your Highness?” Estora’s cousin asked.
“Yes,” others chimed
in. “What did you see?”
Zachary smiled, but
Estora could tell it was forced. “I saw,” he said, “the best king
Sacoridia has ever known.”
“And what was his
name?” someone called out.
This was greeted by
more laughter, but Zachary did not answer. He returned his gaze to
where they’d last seen the tumbler, his expression
serious.
When the onlookers
dispersed, Estora asked him, “What did you really see?”
She never received
an answer, for a man in a red coat wearing the mask of a lion
rushed toward them with a yell, a dagger bared in his
hand.
Estora
screamed.