Chapter 8: A Dance

Ara

The ballroom was in the castle’s eastern wing. On one end, it had direct access to a grand foyer where the guests were greeted and announced upon entering. On the other end, the room was connected to what had once been a king’s private parlor. Count Thorn was waiting for them there.

The guards opened the door to the parlor, and Count Thorn didn’t turn to look at them. He was dressed in the usual elegant attire he wore to balls, except now he had a simple black mask on.

“You’re late,” he said calmly. “Now, let’s go. Ara, you’ll walk in behind us.” He held out his right arm, waiting for Princess Lila to join him. They usually entered with Ara on his left arm, but tonight it seemed he was saving that position for his sister.

Princess Lila took his arm, and he immediately twisted his neck towards her.

“Ara, I said you’ll walk… wait. Princess Lila? I thought you’d be wearing the other dress I sent you.”

He stepped back and observed the two, looking them up and down. He pursed his mouth as if he had swallowed a lemon.

“It’s most unbecoming of you to dress like that,” he said to Princess Lila.

“There were no instructions as to who was supposed to wear which dress, and I don’t see how it can be unbecoming on me but not on Ara,” she replied curtly.

“No, of course, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just very unlike you. At least take off your necklace, or people will think you have a collar.”

“It’s part of the ensemble,” Princess Lila said, stepping towards him. “Shall we? It seems like your sister is growing impatient.”

Ara had been watching them and hadn’t noticed the raised shrill voice that was growing louder. She was dreading the moment Count Thorn would ask her about the map, and anything that kept him away from her was a temporary relief.

“Tell that idiot to wait for me there, and remember to check the chandeliers. Where in heaven are they? Here? Why does he have to use this side to go in?” cried the voice from outside the parlor.

The door opened and in walked Pavla, wearing a yellow and blue dress with a feathery hat and mask. It seemed like she had wanted to look like a bird, and she had achieved the look, but Ara couldn’t imagine her as anything other than a very annoying parrot.

“There you are. Brother. Lila. That… is an interesting choice. Oh, there’s the mouse. I thought she’d be among the servants.”

Count Thorn had never made Ara serve guests, but of course, she had to say that.

“Sister. Let’s go. Everyone’s waiting.”

Pavla barely glanced in Ara’s direction as she walked by her and took Count Thorn’s other arm. Then a guard opened the door to the ballroom and the talk outside subsided. The musicians played a martial tune, and the three walked out to the roaring applause. Ara stayed behind them, as she had been instructed to do.

“Welcome, friends. I’m delighted you’ve joined us for this party, and even more so because we have a very special guest tonight. Your Grace, welcome to Havensville. May your short stay be the first of many to come,” Count Thorn said to more applause.

The crowd facing them opened up to let Prince Acheron walk up to Count Thorn. The three bowed their heads to him. From behind them, all Ara could see was his head.

“I thank you for your hospitality, Count Thorn. And thank you, Lady Pavla, for all your efforts. The castle looks exquisite,” Prince Acheron said, nodding at the Count’s sister.

“Your Grace, I’m honored and humbled,” Pavla said, nodding back.

“I wanted to formally introduce Princess Lila Havilland, your Grace. My dearest guest, who I’ve come to see as a niece,” Count Thorn said, stepping away from Princess Lila.

Prince Acheron walked up to Princess Lila, and she curtsied before he took her hand and kissed it. His gaze then fell upon Ara, who had been silently watching the exchange behind them.

His eyes lingered on Ara for what seemed like an age, which made Count Thorn look back at her.

“Oh, your Grace, I believe you have met her. Princess Lila’s companion.”

“I have. Arabella,” Princess Acheron said, nodding towards her.

“Your Grace,” Ara said, nodding back.

“Bow, you insolent girl,” Pavla whispered at her, loud enough for Prince Acheron to hear.

The previously silent crowd standing in the ballroom began to murmur. Ara was able to catch bits and pieces of what they were saying.

“Who is that other girl?”

“Is that his pet?”

“Oh, that’s the other one.”

Count Thorn cleared his throat.

“Well, then. Please, eat, drink, and be merry!” he cried out, and the music began to play. The guests at the center stepped back to let several couples take the floor to dance, and the rest went back to what they had been doing before their host made his grand entrance.

“Count Thorn, may I ask one of your ladies to dance?” Prince Acheron said.

“Of course,” Pavla cut in before Count Thorn was able to speak.

“Arabella, would you join me?”

Prince Acheron extended a hand towards Ara, and Count Thorn, Pavla, and Princess Lila all turned to look at Ara at the same time.

“Your Grace, that girl… she’s of no importance. I’m sure Princess Lila would make a more suitable dance partner,” Pavla said, her head bouncing between Ara and the prince.

“Your Grace, it would be my friend’s honor to dance with you. I’ll be getting something to eat if you care to dance with me later,” Princess Lila said, nodding towards Prince Acheron and walking away towards the crowd.

Ara stood there, frozen, not knowing what to do. She was torn between excusing herself and suggesting he dance Pavla, so she could join Princes Lila and blend into the background. Could she even refuse to dance with the prince?

He was dressed as a swashbuckler, with a black cloth mask and a white linen shirt. Nothing in his clothes reflected his royal status, and she would have easily confused him with any other guest, except for that strange scent of his, which Ara still couldn’t understand. She wondered if he knew he smelled like that. From the three versions of the prince she had seen in the course of a day, this one was her favorite. He didn’t look like someone who wanted to kill her, for starters.

“Arabella, your prince has asked you to dance,” Count Thorn said. He stared at her with a stone-like expression. “Join him.”

The command’s tug nudged her forward before she realized she was walking towards the prince. He took her hand and stepped beside her, escorting her to the middle of the ballroom. When the dancers realized who was joining them, they stopped and stepped back, eyes glued to the couple.

Prince Acheron’s presence made the musicians change what they were playing to an orchestral ballad.

The two assassins began to dance as the crowd watched them.