Glowing Girl chp 19

Chapter 19

Mira stood in the corner, the edges of the mask digging into the soft flesh of her face. She wanted to take it off, that and the heavy gown she was wearing. It was pinned and tight, thick bolts of purple velvet with stones and metals hanging off of it. Was everything she would be able to wear purple?
It was as if she wasn't allowed to be herself. The mask kept her identity unknown but she had to keep up appearances anyway. She had to act like she knew what was going on in the country, that she knew laws and policies, and that she knew the same gossip as everyone else. She was pretending to be someone she wasn't. She didn't know any of it, so instead, she stayed in the corner, alone, not saying much to anyone.
There were people dancing, strange, intricate dances that they all seemed to know. It was not the kind of dancing that she was used to. Her tribe would dance to the sound of the wind, not a large band, and they would make up moves to go along with it, while they had a written pattern. It was pretty from a distance and those involved seemed to be having fun, but Mira couldn't get into it. She didn't know any of the moves.
Prince Izian, her fiancé, was dancing as well. She always knew where he was as he was wearing the white and silver robes he was so accustomed to, his pale hair slicked back with feathers sewn into it. His mask was black with purple spirals and silver. It matched his soul more than his costuming did.
She didn't like the way that he was smiling, as if he was excited by the faceless women around him. He was going to be her husband, but he seemed much more interested in these women than he ever had to her. Sure he had spent time with her at the ball, kept her on his arm for a time like some exotic bird, showing her off to his friends. She was a trophy, not a human being.
Some of the other partiers had smiled at her in an apologetic way, as if they knew the pain that she would be going through for her whole life. She knew that they were right. Izian would make a miserable husband and he would make her miserable. After they had been introduced to her, they'd wandered off, not to speak to her again for the rest of the party.
There was one partier though, who had a hard time taking his eyes off of her. He looked as bored as she felt, even though she couldn't see his whole face. His mask was gray and soft, black lace crawling over it. The lace even covered the holes for his eyes, making it so that it was difficult for others to see in, while he could see out without too much difficulty. It did not cover his mouth, which turned at the edges as if he were smiling.
He was dancing with the others, but there wasn't a real smile on his face, like what was dominant on theirs. It seemed like he was trying to weave his way through them, getting closer to her with every turn of the dance.
Izian had not introduced him to her. Maybe that was why he seemed so adamant to get to her. Maybe he hated this whole charade just as much as she did.
He'd gotten through, leaving the party and his partner. They didn't seem to need him and continued the dance without his involvement. He walked passed the band and the buffet, where there were all sorts of dry, bland food and wines, approaching her. She tried not to show how interested she was, keeping her eyes down. She wanted to talk to him, to anyone really, and he actually seemed interested in talking to her as well. It was probably going to be about something pompous, how many acres he had or some sort of law he was trying to pass, but it would still be something. She was tired of just watching.
The music ended and everyone clapped. The stranger turned and joined them as the band began a new song. Everyone walked around, looking for a new partner. Suddenly, Izian was beside her, his hand outstretched. Mira had no choice, not really. She had to take it. This man was going to be her husband and her king. She couldn't say no to him, not in such a public setting.
She took his hand and, as he walked her into the center of the ballroom, she looked back at the man who had been trying to talk to her. He looked sad about how she had just vanished before he could reach her, as if what he was going to say would actually be of some importance. She doubted that it was, but she still felt bad for him.
Her eyes locked with his for just a moment and she could see them through the elegant black lace. They were pale gray.
Izian pulled her close to him, his hand on her waist, the other holding her hand. He smelled like nothing as he moved her with him, the music growing around him. He was spinning her slowly with him, they're bodies almost touching. It was a lot closer than she would like to be with him, although she knew that she'd eventually be even closer to him.
She looked up at him, trying to keep her footing and not make a fool of herself only to find that he wasn't even looking down at her. His eyes were on the other dancers, especially the women. She wanted to get away from him.
They stopped dancing as a hand landed on Izian's shoulder. No one else paused, the music still swelling as they spun around. The stranger had interrupted the prince, making him slightly angry.
"Aye, the lady seems to be having some difficulty. I was wondering if I might cut in." he asked, his accent thick with his R's rolling and his L's hardly audible.
"Depends." Izian snorted, "Who exactly are you?"
"Ah, my name is Henneren, I'm the Duke of Ellensen."
"Oh, I see." Izian nodded, "I didn't know anyone from Icaro would be here."
Icaro was another country, Mira remembered, having heard about it from the dying king. Markia had been at war with them for decades, on and off, and when they weren't fighting, they still weren't friends.
Izian bowed to the Duke, retreating from his prize. Even though the countries were enemies, he was still going to allow this man to dance with her? Maybe it was his attempts to make friends, but Mira doubted it. She knew it was more likely to be out of common courtesy and the rules of the elite than anything else.
Henneren was delicate as he put his hand on her waist, holding his hand out for her to grab instead of taking it as Izian had. She took it, glad to be away from the prince, even though she knew she was in potential danger from this enemy of the country. His hands were rough, he wasn't wearing gloves like everyone else here was.
His clothing was strange, as he was from another country, it may have been in fashion. The clothing seemed old, as if it had been stored for a long time. It was a combination of delicate lace, cotton and white, frilling around his throat and wrists, and brown leather. They clashed and flowed together at the same time.
Unlike the prince and many other dancers there, he was not covered in decorations. His clothing was simple and form fitting, not layered like the others. With them you could hardly tell the difference between fabric and body.
He smelled familiar.
He reminded her of the forests and dirt and actual work.
"Okay, now were' going to take this slowly." he instructed, "It's in a beat of four. Four steps on tip toes, four steps flat. I'll push your waist in order to show you which way we're going."
She nodded and he led her in the dance. He did it slowly and smiled when she messed up instead of reprimanding her. He just let her get back into position. She had no reason to be, but she felt safe with him, maybe because they were both so different from the others. He seemed to be of a lower class than the rest, as if he had actually done something. He didn't seem opposed to her for not knowing how to act.
"Are you happy?" he asked her. She didn't know what he meant but he looked sincere, his pale eyes digging into her.
"I am right now." she replied, truthfully. Dancing with someone who actually wanted her to do well and didn't care when she didn't made it quite fun. She was surprised at how much she was enjoying it.
"Are you happy with his royal highness?" his voice was quiet now, as if he didn't want anyone to hear. It was probably a good idea that no one could.
She looked away. She couldn't say no. He was her fiancé. If she did anything to embarrass him or upset him, who knows what he'd do?
"No." she admitted.
He dropped her hand for a moment, pulling his mask up over his slicked back brown hair. She stared at him.
He was beautiful.
He had a slender, nose, straight until the end, where it slowly sloped up. His eyebrows were thick and black, showing his emotions perfectly. They were upturned with worry, crushing the pale eyes beneath them with thick eyelashes which curved elegantly. His bone structure was strong and square, noticeable through his tanned skin.
He twirled her, slowly as he replaced the mask. She didn't understand why he had given her that flash of what he looked like or why he decided to do it there. No one was supposed to show their real face until the end.
He pulled her close, but this time she wasn't against it. She liked being close to him. Where Izian was cold, he was warm. They were complete opposites.
"Do you want me to take you away from here?" he whispered into her ear.
Her eyes went wide. Was he serious? He couldn't genuinely think that he could save her from her marriage. She was a lost cause.
Even if she left, Eradin would be in danger. She wanted to protect him, but then again, she knew that she couldn't. He had condemned himself as soon as he'd saved himself. Regardless of what she did, there were men coming after him and his life was gone. There was no reason for her to stay, not for his sake.
"Yes." she relied, hesitantly, "I would like that very much."
The man smiled and they continued dancing.
As the night continued she saw much of the Duke, although she did not dance with him again. He kept to himself much of the time, just as she did on the other side of the ballroom. He danced a few times with different partners, but continuously glanced over to her.
Eventually everyone went home and Henneren met with her on the balcony outside of the ballroom. It was a cool night, but Mira didn't mind it. She was used to cool nights and as summer was dying, she was getting prepared for them. They spoke of trivial things, like their families and what they were hoping for the future of their countries. He didn't mention taking her away with him again and she didn't bring it up. She didn't know who might be listening.
Izian didn't like this. He didn't like a foreigner, nonetheless a foreigner from Icaro to be talking to his bride. Who knows what kinds of conspiracies he was filling her head with. He walked up behind them, clearing his throat to get the Dukes attention.
Henneren turned and bowed at the invading prince, deeply and politely. There was something about his face that Izian didn't like. It reminded him of someone but he didn't know who.
"The ball is over." he clarified, "I believe it is time for you to leave."
"Ah, yes." Henneren smiled, "I do apologize, I just got caught up talking with this bride of yours. She's lovely, you should feel proud for having wooed her.
"I am." he lied, swinging his arm to show the Duke his way. He bowed again and took the hint, leaving the prince alone with his fiancé.