LADY ESTORA’S MASQUE
Lady Estora Coutre was thrilled by how well her efforts to create a memorable masquerade ball were being received by her guests. The comments she overheard about the event proclaimed the food unsurpassed and the decorations beyond clever. Dancers filled the dance floor without fail and it was great fun trying to figure out who was behind each mask.
Her father might grumble about all the parties, but she’d tired of the gloomy winter and the hard, unyielding walls of the castle. She was determined to bring light and festivity into her life. If she was going to be spending the rest of her days here, she might as well make the best of it.
Now if she could find Zachary, there was something she wanted to show him.
Someone touched her wrist, a woman with a swan mask. “My lady, a most excellent masque. Why, it’s been years and years since there has been one to attend in all of Sacor City. Thank you for organizing it.”
The compliment warmed Estora, and she almost wanted to skip like a little girl, for it had come from Lady Creen, who was usually very critical of anything that came to her attention.
Estora found Colin Dovekey at one of the tables, with his blue eye mask, filling a cup with punch.
“Have you seen Zachary?” she asked him.
“I believe he stepped out for air,” Colin replied. “Would you care for some punch?” He offered her his cup.
“No, thank you.” She left Colin and worked her way through the room, greeting guests as she went. She was hardly surprised Zachary would step outside for air. He seemed to enjoy parties well enough, but now and then he required a respite from the crowds.
A Weapon opened a balcony door for her. She shivered when she stepped out into the cold. Zachary turned toward her. He was not wearing his mask, and she couldn’t say she blamed him, for it was heavy and must be hot.
Their costumes had been inspired by legends of the sea kings. Ever since Lord Amberhill’s visit and gifts, she couldn’t seem to remove the stories from her mind, so she’d turned Zachary into one of the legendary kings and herself into one of the witches of the sea that beguiled unwary mariners onto the shoals of islands, capturing them body and soul.
“Zachary,” she said. “It is so cold out here. You’ll catch a chill!”
“Oh, I don’t think so. The air is bracing.”
“Even so, you are missed, and there is something you should see.” She took his arm and guided him toward the door.
“Very well.” He grabbed his mask as he went, and then paused. When she turned to see what was the matter, she observed him bowing to the darkness. She squinted and discerned a figure in shadow at the far end of the balcony.
“What was that about?” she asked him after they entered the ballroom.
He chuckled. “I just had an audience with Queen Oddacious.”
“Queen Oddacious? Oh, yes, what a peculiar costume. She was out there?”
“Yes. Apparently a rather shy person despite the costume.”
Estora would find out who it was later. It wasn’t unusual for Zachary to strike up a conversation with just about anyone. He had as much respect for the lowly tradesman as those of the noble class, an admirable quality in a king. So she wasn’t surprised he’d found someone to speak with out on the balcony, and she could certainly see how that costume would pique his interest, because it certainly piqued hers. Still, there he’d been out in the dark, just him and some unknown woman ...
She nearly laughed aloud. Could it be she felt a tinge of jealousy? She and Zachary had been spending more time together than ever, sharing afternoon tea, he bringing her to meetings and audiences, and seeking her counsel on matters of court. Of course she did not expect him to change his stance on any of his decisions, but there were times when her observations had made a difference. She was enjoying her role as she prepared to become queen, and a real friendship was blossoming between the two of them that would certainly ease the transition into marriage.
At one time Estora had been reluctant to marry, but that was before her abduction. Now she was grateful to be alive and safe. And, she had been touched by Zachary’s concern for her upon her return. She didn’t think it was entirely his apprehension over what her father would do if she didn’t return safely, either.
She appreciated his solicitous attentions. If there was still a part of him that remained aloof, she thought that, too, would change with time. After all it would be unseemly for him to act too familiar with her, and because of who they were, they were under particular scrutiny from all quarters.
“What is it you wish me to see?” Zachary asked.
“Something entertaining,” she replied. That was, if she could find the tumbler with the looking mask. Perhaps it was silly of her to draw him into such a trivial amusement, but when she gazed into the looking mask, she swore she saw something more than just her own reflection: just a brief flash of herself beaming down at an infant in her arms. An infant with soft golden hair. At least she thought that’s what she saw. Maybe she had seen only what she wished to see. Regardless, the image had brought her much delight and she hoped Zachary would see something similar.
The looking masks she had gazed into when a girl attending masquerades back home had never produced such a vision, but she and her friends would make them up anyway. Once she had pretended she’d seen herself becoming queen. Funny that it was coming true.
“Where is he?” Estora muttered.
As if in answer to her query, the tumbler appeared out of the crowd with a backflip and landed before them.