I’d visited the two-legs’ palace many years ago, as a youngling. Brought as a threat, I’d taken no part in the negotiations. All I remember of the trip above water was being dazzled by the lights and over-awed by the clothes these two-legs wore. Along with the uncomfortableness of being forced to keep the form of a two-legs myself for so long.
Now, after living alongside them for so long, it was the worn patches on the carpet, the cracks in window panes which let in the draft, and spots where the golden veneer had rubbed away, which caught my notice. The grandeur was nothing to the open sea, and their power could never rival those of the storms I wielded.
Though that was all hidden. For today, I was nothing more than another simpering young girl in a ballgown ready to enjoy an evening of dancing. And maybe a glimpse of the prince. Well, I didn’t care for that, but I had to pretend I did.
Torches led the way to the ballroom, servants waiting to check our invites, take our cloaks and ensure everyone’s masks were fitted. The sea knew why this had to be a masquerade, but so was the prince’s will and we all bent to accommodate that.
Once inside, I circled the edge of the room. It was instinct to check for exits in any new place. My fingers reached for w here my shaman board normally hung at my waist, but it wasn’t there. Too many people would recognise it, and so me, for it to be safe for me to carry it here. I’d trusted it to my lieutenant on pain of death if anything happened to it while I was gone, along with my rapier. With neither of those, I felt vulnerable, even though I had far more power without them than any of these other chits who knew nothing more than needlecraft and pianoforte.
A presence approached me from the left.
All my senses focused on separating their movements from all the others around me. Their aura oscillated between the green of pride and the purple of disapproval, with a hint of the yellow of surprise.
“Are you assessing rivals, or do you see yourself as above them all? Heaven forbid you were searching for the elusive prince?” His voice carried only to me and no further.
I turned enough to see him, one eyebrow arched behind my mask. “Have we been introduced?”
A black mask studded with gems covered the top of his face. Black feathers blended into his black hair, which combined with the hooked nose gave him a crow-like appearance. Red stripes down the side of his pressed black trousers identified him as the elusive prince.
I’d been forced to learn every scrap of information my father’s court knew about the two-legs’ royals before our previous visit, which had included their secret system of identification within the palace. Regardless of costumes, every guard needed to be able to identify those they were bound to serve at an instant.
The corners of his mouth smirked. “This is a masquerade, though if you insist, you may call me Corvus.” Taking my hand, he pressed his lips to it.
“Corvus? Enchante, Messieur Corvus.” As much as I tried to push down my amusement, it threaded though my voice.
His hand lingered on mine after he straightened. “And what should I call you? Beauty? Angel?”
“Nothing so mundane.” What better name could there be? “For tonight, I am Ursula.” Known to the two-legs as a sea witch, she was the greatest shaman who’d ever served my father’s kingdom. If I was forced to be here on his orders, then I’d do it with her name.
Corvus blinked three times before a forced smile graced his mouth. “A beautiful name.” He swallowed. “Ursula, would you care to dance?”
I wasn’t there to idle my time dancing with the prince, but how could I refuse without revealing either who I was, or that I knew who he was. Pulling my hand from his, I clasped them together and dropped my gaze to the floor. “I’m not sure. This song seems...fast?” Internally, I cringed at this excuse.
“No problem.” He raised a hand, then thought better of it. “How about a glass of punch? There are plenty of balconies which allow one to take the air. I’m keen to learn more about you.”
That sounded more promising, though not something I should agree to immediately. “A balcony? Just the two of us? I could never. That wouldn’t be proper.” I allowed a tremor into my voice, as if my only hesitation was for what other people might think, and the potential impact to my reputation.
“As if I’d suggest something that wasn’t proper!” He pressed both hands to his chest with a gasp. “They are, of course, in view of the ballroom. No privacy here, I’m afraid.” Rage bubbled through his words. “Just a little fresh air, where the music is quieter making it easier to talk.”
At that I agreed, following him further into the room. We threaded our way through the crowd, ignoring the groups standing chatting and watching everyone else. A few danced despite the early hour, but we stayed out of their way.
Once we each had a glass of punch, as promised, we continued to the other side of the room where floor length windows opened onto small wrought iron balconies. As he’d promised, there was no hiding here for a lover’s assignation, but the fresh air was welcome. As was the sight of the fountain I’d been ordered to locate in the centre of the courtyard we now looked down onto. Though having quailed at the idea of being alone with him on the balcony, it would be suspicious if I insisted on a stroll through the gardens.
“Now, tell me more about yourself.” He sipped his drink. “I must admit, you intrigue me. This must be your first time attending court, correct?”
I sipped my drink to stall for time. “I feel the need to return your words to you, Corvus. This is a masquerade. Are you trying to learn my true identity after refusing to admit to yours?”
His grin widened. “You surpass my every expectation of you. There are few who retain my interest, yet I’m not certain if I dare to raise my hopes.”
“Whatever do you mean?” The prince had a reputation of getting bored with courtiers and servants, but it wasn’t my place to admit to understanding him. Or the flicker of empathy that wormed its way through my heart for someone forever on show, yet surrounded by those who would never measure up to his skills. “Though I will admit to not having previously had the pleasure of seeing this garden before. There is something in the symmetric placement of the hedges which brings calm, don’t you find?”
Corvus snorted. “The hedges are what you wish to speak of? How could I deny you that.” He settled against the railing next to me, both of us looking down into the courtyard below. “There are many such small courtyards throughout the palace, and my ... the king insisted they were all made distinct from each other.” He waved a hand towards it. “This one was designed around the fountain, the angles of the hedges giving each approach a different view of the fountain. Stories say it is enchanted and can grant wishes, but that is only a tale for children.”
“It makes a pleasant sound.” How he would curse to know he was wrong. I opened my senses to study it. Deep within, the waters recognised me, but they were warded here. While I had the ability to ignite the powers hidden within the fountain, it would be risky to do so without my shaman board. Not that I had any intention to do so right now. My sole goal for this trip had been to get close enough and confirm if it was indeed the fountain stolen from my father’s underwater palace.
A cough behind us startled us both. Raising my hands ready for combat, I spun on my heel.
One of the many palace lackeys stood in the doorway. “Forgive my intrusion, your high-” Corvus, beside me, stiffened. “...grace. Your attendance has been requested.”
“I understand.” Corvus turned to me. “If you’d forgive me, it seems our time together is to be cut short.” Taking my hand, he pressed his lips to it a second time. “Though if I could presume to ask for you to wait for me, I’ll return as soon as this other matter is concluded.” His aura twisted between the red of irritation, the blue of guilt, and the orange of concern.
I shrugged. “If nothing else catches my interest while you’re gone.”
He laughed. “How could I expect anything else from you.”
“Au revoir, Corvus.” I’d achieved my goal here, so I had no intention of remaining any longer, but that wasn’t something I intended to inform him of in advance. If he did return, then he’d learn I’d left. Let him wonder who I was, until he deemed that mystery dull like everything else.
I’d spent too long away from my ship, and that was more important than this ball of fripperies and hidden identities.