#fe conrad

He only wished it was as easy for him as it was everyone else. Even introducing himself to his sister’s closest companions without his mask left him feeling exposed and antsy. He had no desire to fall under the watchful gazes of so many strangers. And worse, they were highly ranked strangers. It was easy enough to tell commoners that he was some distant cousin of Celica’s, and avoid the slew of questions about his birthright as her brother. However, nobles tended to know every branch of each other’s family tree, so there was no alias he could conjure up around them. He was already struggling with calling her by her new name, he was certain he’d slip up in the most embarrassing ways with the focus on him.

As the first ball organized by the One Kingdom, by the Queen herself, he knew the importance of honoring her request. More than that, he had made a vow to his sister – to give her whatever she needed, whenever she needed. Though it was an oath for the battlefield, not made with crowd-spectated waltzes in mind, he refused to go back on the promise now. If she wanted a dance, then a dance she would receive.

He marched up to the door, vowing this would be the time he opened it.

Instead, the heavy wooden panels swung out all on their own. He leapt back as Celica herself hurried out. He couldn’t help the shock flashing across his face – with her golden circlet and pearly gown, she looked just like her mother.

“The guards told me you were here. Oh, you look dashing!”

“As do you, dear sister. My apologies for – eh?”

She grabbed his arm to pull him inside. “Come join us!”

Then, pausing just after yanking him forward, the two collided. “Ah, but first! You did forget one thing.” She reached up to press his mask into place over his face before they were off again.

He opened his mouth to ask where she’d gotten it from, or protest that he would not hide in his usual ways, or reassure her he would stand by her side, proud to support her in front of her people. The moment she pulled him into the room, the words died from his lips.

The torchlight shown down onto the sea of colors, guests dancing and mingling in the grand hall. Firelight reflected through the crystal decorations speckled like stars across hundreds of gowns and coattails, and with them, hundreds of glimmering masks.

They came in a variety of shapes and shades – some twisted into elegant shapes of lace and beads, others bloomed with vibrant flowers, and still others were formed like animals, complete with fur and feathers.

“You didn’t tell me it would be a masquerade,” he gaped.

“I certainly tried!”

Celica pulled him deeper into the crowd with a laugh. People turned their heads to address their queen with respect, but not one shot a second glace his way. It was only when they reached a clearer spot that he noticed the pink and gold mask she clutched in her own hand. She worked to adjust it over her own face, though it was designed so she could still be recognized underneath. Perhaps it was just respectful as the host, but Conrad wondered if she was tired of hiding who she was. She truly was shining here, entirely in her element.

“You’ve been so busy of late, helping me with all those new policies, and trying to weasel your way out of the ball as a whole –”

“That was not weaseling,” he said before realizing how childish it came out. His sister always uncovered another side in him. She’d heard every pout, every stutter, every snorted laugh and awkward question. He allowed himself a smile. “Alright, perhaps there was a little weaseling. But I did wish to be helpful…”

“I know. And the most helpful thing you can do now is to be here with me. That’s precisely why a masquerade was my first choice – I want you at ease just as you’ve put me at ease. I’m lucky to have family by my side, after everything.”

He knew she was just saying that because she’d been around Alm’s laments for his own lost family.

She narrowed her eyes. “And no, I’m not just saying that because I’ve been around Alm. I knew it long before we reunited – that I was blessed my Mila to have you back in my life.”

Conrad was glad the mask hid the burning of his cheeks, knowing the queen of the One Kingdom felt the same way about him.

Unfortunately, his moment of reassurance was a short one. A stuffy-postured man approached them with equally stiff greetings to Celica. He introduced himself as some Rigelian Duke and passed on his terse praise for the ball. Conrad could feel her immediate change in demeanor, her intonation and posture held higher than moments ago.

Shrinking back from the conversation, Conrad heard the orchestra pick up an elegant waltz.

Celica’s expression lit up in both recognition and what he recognized as relief to have an excuse to leave the sour company. She traded the man’s handshake for her brother’s elbow.

“Ah, if you’ll excuse me, I have been awaiting a dance with this gentleman.”

She headed toward the dance floor, causing the Duke to huff at her breezy exit. He narrowed his eyes at Conrad. “And just who might he be?”

The pair had yet to discuss with Celica what they were going to do about his identity. He heart raced, suddenly panicking that the Duke’s scathing glare would be the undoing of all Celica’s hard work.