Chapter 8

For the first time in many years, Osiris went to a social gathering without his hair combed back to show his comedically large forehead. Osiris's outside look was like the latest fashion trends. It only looks good if done with confidence. Osiris would hold have to hold his head high, no matter what silly costume Mother put him in.

"Osiris, I heard your brother is quite busy lately," his mother said, putting on a yellow and black patterned mask that matched her eyes.

"I wonder why," Osiris replied, staring out the window of their carriage.

"Tsk. That's not what I mean, Osiris," Mother replied. "Easter reported to me his fiancé wanted him to wear a suit with twenty different parts." Osiris covered his laugh with his hand.

"Did he end up wearing it?"

"You know how he is."

"Hmm, what a shame." Perhaps Easter wasn't 'in love' enough, enough to do anything for his fiancé.

They arrived at the ball, Osiris nodding to the guards. His emerald-red mask was covered by his messy but straight hair. He had tried to wear something as normal as possible, since it would be annoying if anybody recognized the crowned prince. It was one of the things he envied about Easter: not being extremely popular.

Speaking of the devil, he was already waiting for them, his woman hooked onto his arm. Easter was always grumpy, but could be a pushover sometimes. (It happened less the more he grew up) Osiris could barely see the small trembling boy, tears dripping from his eyes as he cowered in fear, anymore.

"You're late," Easter sighed. Lady Rose bowed to them. Her wavy brown hair was tied in a bun, a rose pin stuck onto it, green vine-line jewels hanging off. She wore a elegant red dress, with dark shades making her seem older. Easter seemed to match her, with his red and black suit, and a flower tucked probably involuntarily in his coat pocket.

"You two make a cute couple~" Osiris teased.

"Shut up, you bachelor," Easter replied curtly. Mother lead the way, with her perfect posture and commanding presence. Even without the crowns on their heads, people still recognized them (unfortunately) and bowed as they passed.

He ended up beside Easter. "Will you not have the first dance with the Lady?" He asked, nudging his brother slightly. Easter sighed, a little annoyed.

"She says she has business to take care of, and will be back by the second dance."

"Sounds more like you've been abandoned already. Would you like your dear brother to cheer you up?"

"Please no." Easter pointed to a group of women looking at them, both his finger and their stares very discreet. "Go away and find yourself a bride." Osiris sighed.

"Tsk tsk. So mean of you." Osiris looked at the sky. "I'll have enough time to see you dance with the Lady, before I have to leave." Behind the mask, Easter's face seem to darken. Was he disappointed that Osiris needed to leave?

"Ah- that. What are you planning to buy?" Osiris sighed.

"Perhaps another puppet for Mother. I heard she took an interest in cream colored pearls, so I might buy her one of similar eye color. Or a grey eyed child."

"Oh... I see... What about the previous puppet?"

"Well..." Osiris was silent for a brief while. "It's been the third kid Mother killed..." Easter was quiet, sipping the wine from his wine glass slowly. He seemed sad. Perhaps he really was quite close to the puppet. Osiris didn't think it was right to ask, though.

"Oh," Easter suddenly said. "Give me your clothes and your mask." Osiris gasped.

"W-What?? Do you want my pride and dignity too??" Easter sighed in exasperation.

"No. It's in case something bad happens and I need to cosplay as you."

"...Oh. We should've worn the same clothes then..."

"Lady Rose is quite particular about my clothing."

Osiris watched his brother hold hands with the Lady, and as they danced, a brief smile might have cracked on his face. He tugged his hood a little, heading towards the entrance to the auction.

It was a secret auction under the ballroom, only accessible with a password.

"Of jealous eyes cast doubt upon thee, and raised swords pointed to thy neck. With a veil of blood, I shall prevail."

Osiris had a general idea of what he would choose. He heard there would be a slave there, with silver while hair and listless grey eyes. There were rumors that he was the secret bastard son of the Tarnin family, that ran away when he was six. Now, he should be twelve. The new puppet.

The first child had lavender hair and silky pale eyes, her hair flowing past her knees. She was called the Flower. The next, with sky blue eyes that looked past everything, aquamarine hair that flowed in the wind, the quiet and patient Runaway. The third, a silent but cheerful Puppet, with dark black hair and bright golden eyes. The fourth... would appear today.

The auction started. First, a little girl, barely seven. "Starting bid, five gold."

"Five gold!"

"Ten gold!"

"Twenty gold!"

Then, a boy, looking around ten. "Starting bid, seven gold."

Osiris felt a little uneasy during auctions sometimes, since it gave him bad memories. Peering up into the crowd of hungry eyes, both scared and angry, as hands prodded his face and at his eyes.

He lost track of time, his target slave appearing before him. "Starting bid, twenty gold!"

"Twenty gold!"

"Fourty!"

"Fourty five!"

"A hundred!" The crowd was silent. Perhaps it was Osiris's turn.

"Two hundred," he said, holding up his bidding card. No reply.

"We have a winner! Sold for two hundred gold!" Osiris liked showing off his wealth. From the corner of his eye, he saw Duke Tarnin look desperately at him. He was the man who couldn't conquer two hundred gold; did the Tarnin household no longer own that much money, or was a hundred gold the most he could spend for his bastard son?

The auction ended, and Osiris went to go collect his reward. The slave was inside a cage, his hands cuffed and a sad and empty look in his misty grey eyes. His name was the Anonymity.

Osiris brought the anonymity to a private room, one he had already prepared. The anonymity... it had no identity, now that it was bought by the Royal Family. It was no longer the bastard son of the Tarnin household, just a boy with no name, no self, no background, just an anonymity.

"What was the name your parents gave you?" Osiris asked the anonymity.

"...Oliver, Your Highness," the anonymity replied. Osiris knew that already.

"Well, Oliver, from now on, you'll simply be referred to as the anonymity." The anonymity said nothing. Osiris handed him some clothes. "Here you go. Wear this for now, to look... presentable. When we go back, I need to give you shower." He turned around to leave. "Please stay here." The anonymity said nothing, sitting silently on the chair he was instructed in.

Osiris walked slowly back to the ballroom. It was not over yet, apparently, although it was already late at night. How strange. There was no music playing, either. In the halls, Osiris smelled the faint scent of blood, but simply didn't think much about it.

He did a double take. ...Blood? He spun around, facing a room towards his left, which he recognized belonged to a young lady of the Hawthorn family. He creaked open the door, small specks of red dotting the marble ground, pointing towards the sofa in the middle.

On the sofa, was a beautiful scene. A woman, pale but proper, laying on the bright red cushions, her dress draped across it, and flowing onto the ground. Her pale skin was illuminated by darkness, the crimson specks on her cheek highlighting her dull green eyes, her dark hair looking almost black in the moonlight. A sword struck through her chest cleanly, struck so strongly it went through the sofa and brushed the ground lightly, almost as light as her hair.

"...Your Highness?" The anonymity asked. "What's... going on?