#regaleventi

    Beautiful, colourful gowns everywhere, men in black, men dressed as deities, the ball was as stunning as a rainbow. She was watching from the inside out, mask removed. Her feet were sore from dancing, her head a little hazy from the wine. Eden was content, still aware, still watching the scenery around her, but content. The people were moving the same as before in unison, no one had left besides her, and Louiza, her wonderful charge was still in her line of sight. For once, her guard was almost lowered.

    Perhaps that was why she didn’t hear the door slide open. Her face was still exposed. She was c a u g h t . And the woman before her was no ordinary woman. No, as fate would have it, she was someone that had known her in another life. She’d known Lady Talia, daughter of the fictional Duke Watson. Had it not been such a small country, her ploy never would have worked. “Queen Amalia,” she said kindly, bowing her head. “It appears that we meet again. I do hope you’ve been well. I also hope that you’ve missed me.”

King Noel Miklós Tordai 

      The entire evening Eden’s eyes had been scanning the crowd, measuring the flamboyant patrons up. Who lingered too close to the Princess in Red, who was on their sixth glass of wine, who scowled at their fellow party goers, whose eyes kept darting to the door. You see, people said a lot in their simple boy language. Even so much as what direction they faced spoke volumes. This was what she had been trained for, and this was why she was a personal guard to royalty.

      But she could only gaze upon them for so long before she deemed things safe. This was her night, too, and she planned to enjoy it. Two hours total was dedicated to monitoring, not a whole lot in the grand scheme of things. Now was her fun.

      In her surveillance, she’d been able to pick Marcos out in the crowd. It was the little things he had done, the stolen glances at one woman in sky blue with a white lace mask. The way he held his drink, knuckles occasionally turning white with grip. Perhaps the two of them spent too much time together.

      In a sea of exquisite masks, elegant dresses, elaborate suits and extravagant decor, Eliza was wearing blue. She’d given no other hints about how to find her, only a colour. Noel had known her long enough to know her stature and an outline of her shape, but with pooling skirts and possible hair dye, it could be a challenge. That was the point, wasn’t it? A test of sorts to see how easily he could pick her out in a crowd. A desperate grab at normalcy. For years, they’d played these games before they had been pulled into the violence. They would meet in the courtyard or inside the palace, one would describe a game, and the other would play. This was no different. And honestly? He was happy to do it. It was a beautiful requiem. 

      Noel’s eyes scanned the crowd curiously. So far he’d seen six women wearing blue. One was a blonde, one was too tall to be Eliza, one was escorted by a man, and the other two were candidates. One had a beautiful royal blue gown on, embellished with diamonds and a lace bodice. The other was far more stunning in a pale blue, the bottom had what looked to be flowers sewn in, and the bodice had it as well. So many patterns. Gorgeous, even by Noel’s standards.