"Princess, your mask," Henry handed over the mask that Elys had accidentally dropped.
She accepted it sheepishly, embarrassed but still holding her chin high. She did not want to admit her blunder, even when it was too obvious that even a half-blind man could have noticed.
Elys wanted to beat herself for making such a mistake.
She didn’t want to look weak in front of the prince of all people. He might be as gentle as an angel right now, but the moment they return, she knew he was bound to use her mistake as a means to insult her.
"Thank you," the princess smiled at the old man.
Henry was a bit more polite to her now too, so it seemed.
"Your highness," a man in a formal attire greeted them, "the ball is this way."
Aleksander glanced at Elys, a fake yet still an impeccable smile plastered to his face, "Shall we?"
The prince was so gentle that it irked Elys to the point she almost shoved him away. It was as if Elys was so fragile he had to keep her always by his side.
Noticing her reaction, Aleksander withdrew from Elys, and then held his arm out for the princess to take.
Elys braced herself to play her part.
She returned her husband’s smile, slipped her hand under his arm and held on, "Let’s go," she said, and the couple followed the man further inside the castle.
The princess couldn’t help but glance at Aleksander here and there. They were both wearing their masks, his having full coverage while hers only hiding the upper half of her face.
The prince noticed his wife’s side glances and bent over to whisper quite audibly, "I know I am handsome, but just wait when we can take off all of these when we return to our home. I have much more to offer."
His words were playfully seductive that blood rushed to paint the princess’ cheeks rouge. He didn’t need to go this far. Aleksander’s words were unnecessary.
Elys kept a stoic face despite the evidence displayed on her face, giggled like a girl in love and then replied, "I cannot wait, husband. But we haven’t even danced yet, you will have to wait as well."
The music blared louder as they approached a huge arched double door. Two burly men were standing guard, blades glinting dangerously at the tip of their spears.
When they saw Elys and Aleksander approach, they glanced at each other for a fraction of a second and stifled a laugh as if sharing an inside joke, and then opened the doors wide for the couple to enter.
Elys’ mouth almost dropped with the grandeur of the ballroom.
Food was everywhere despite vampires not really needing to eat. They piled onto different long tables, men and women servants walking around with platters of food and beverage.
One of the grandest – yet eerily haunting – part of the room had to be the fountain gushing with dark red liquid. Elys could only guess, but she was willing to bet everything she had to say it was a fountain of blood for the vampires to drink.
Her suspicion was instantly proven when an elderly looking lady held her empty glass below one of the many tiny streams, filling it to the brim and then drinking the red liquid in one gulp.
Vampires were literally everywhere dancing into the music played. Nobles chatting with a glass of blood in their hands, sipping from time to time as they listen into what was new gossip.
"Wait," Elys said as she pulled Aleksander to a halt, "something is wrong."
Just as the princess said, there was definitely something wrong within the large ballroom. And it wasn’t even about the room itself. It was about the guests that attended.
Instead of wearing costumes as traditionally worn during masquerade balls, everyone was dressed in their fanciest formal attires.
The couple could hear snickers here and there, some whispers about how stupid they looked being the odd ones inside a sea of vampires in formal dresses and uniforms.
Aleksander’s fists shook, anger boiling as he realized all his preparations for a grand entrance were for naught.
They were tricked.
The invitation was meant to make them the entertainment of the night – the nobilities’ laughingstock.
"Well look who we have here – it’s the bastard prince!" a high pitched and annoying voice spoke out loud, "whoa... didn’t you read the invitation clearly, Aleks? You look outrageous!"
Elys turned to meet a pale lady with heavy make-up. She looked young, but had an air of being someone way older than she lets everyone else think she was. Perhaps it could be the way her skin stretched out unnaturally, who knows.
Teo surprisingly walked behind the woman, raising a glass of blood in his right hand as if to say hello without speaking a word. Both of them wore extravagant garments, the lady donning the heaviest looking precious jewels on her neck, wrist, finger, and ears.
If Elys had to be honest, she looked like the outrageous one among the three of them.
"Duchess Ravinia..." Aleksander greeted blandly, "the letter we received from my father said it was supposed to be a masquerade ball. Apparently, we weren’t informed it changed."
The prince flashed the duchess his divine smile, and Elys fought the urge to sigh. This was always the case when nobilities gather in one place.
Fake smiles and politeness were worn the same way a warrior would wear their armor to battle. Their sharp tongues being wielded as weapons of high court pretentiousness.
Words, if carefully arranged, could shoot daggers in many forms – may it be flattery, sarcasm, or straight up insult to another party.
"Aw, don’t be such a mood," the woman cackled, "King Raxus must have thought it funny, and it proves to be so. The King’s sense of humor really..." she shook her head as she continued cackle laughing.
"Indeed, crazy," Aleksander muttered.
"Ah," she paused and then asked Teo while pointing her manicured sharp nail straight at Elys, "is this the slave wife?"
"Yes, Duchess," Teo confirmed. "Unfortunately, you were travelling when they were wed under his majesty’s wishes. It wasn’t as grand as with the Crown Prince, but the wedding was one that would always be remembered by all."
Aleksander hissed at Teo, seemingly forgetting to keep his cool as he and Elys were insulted one after the other. Elys squeezed his arm to remind him to calm down.
It was not yet time to retaliate.