Harmonia Book I

Chapter 14: The Ball

"Magnifique."
Hélène stepped back to ponder at her masterpiece. Cleo had been transformed into a giant pastry.
"Oh, how could I forget..." Hélène stepped out, leaving Cleo alone with the stranger wincing at her in the mirror.
The ribbons, the make up, the pink dress and the matching corset, the pearls tightening her neck and the rose perfume filling her lungs, all of it made her feel like an absolute joke.
She wore these delicacies as a costume, one closer to a clown than of a courtesan, and felt so ridiculous, so out of place, she almost let out a laugh.

In a moment, Hélène reappeared behind her, bending to meet Cleo's eyes in the reflection. She smiled: "May I ?"
Cleo nodded shyly.  Hélène gently pulled up her braids and locks. As she was coiffing them, Cleo couldn't help but remember how it felt getting her hair braided as a child. She did it herself now, but this gesture felt warm and caring, so she welcomed it though not without a pinch of embarrassment rising to her cheeks.

"And voilà."

When Cleo allowed herself to look in the mirror, she barely recognized the girl there.
Her hair laid braided on top of her scalp, with rows of glistening pearls on her head like white flowers emerging against the rich dark soil. Her braids and locks rose in a bouquet at the back, with hair and pearls cascading here and there down to her shoulders.
This time, Cleo did not laugh.
« Such rare beauty. The pearls are a plus ma chérie, but no jewel is worth those brown eyes. »
Helene felt she had probably done enough prowesses for the day, so she excused herself in a small bow and a giggle and left the boudoir.

Now alone, Cleo felt free to examine herself without embarrassment. And for a fleeting moment, it all made sense. Her, staying in Versailles. Studying Archeology, being praised for her discoveries. Giving in. Maybe she would be invited again to the Ball. Maybe she would conform. Maybe this time she'd like it. Maybe she could be happy here, maybe she could stay. Maybe she wouldn't have to lie or run anymore.

The story told by the mirror was nice and comfortable, but already it had faded, just like the rose perfume she wore eventually would. But how long would she remember its smell after it's gone ?
This was the one lesson Cleo had to learn again and again, and the only one she seemed unable to retain: Her destiny was to seek, not to find. At least not yet. And she had to keep believing it was for the best.
She rose nervously, unwilling to let herself stray from her path.
She took a deep breath as she reached for the doorknob.
Soon enough she will be far away from here.

                                          -

Fair young ladies in coloured dresses hurried gracefully down the corridor leading to the garden, like a hue of exotic birds wanting to take flight into the cool air of the night.
Cleo, lost in the current of intoxicating perfume, felt more like the worm crawling inside the fruit those birds would later peck at.
The chatter, the colours, the rich smells, all of it was almost disorienting, and Cleo felt lightheaded as she approached the glass doors. She felt it was either that or the fear of walking directly into a trap.
She stepped out at last and gasped in the fresh air. A man in a white wig and an ridiculously extravagant outfit announced her name, but no one seemed to mind.

The doors opened into a dance floor surrounded by enormous potted bouquets arranged with the upmost taste. The tables, the flowers, the curtains...the scene was surrounded by so much white and gold that it seemed to need no candlelight for Cleo to see even in the darkness of the evening.
At the far end, a throne was waiting for its king. Behind it grew great shadows from the palm trees and ferns of a luxurious garden.

In shoes too tight for her, Cleo managed to limp towards a table covered with decadent sweets. She hid for a moment behind a tower of pink cream puffs to catch her breath and wind herself with a fan in a manner far from the subtlety of the other courtesans. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not seem to calm down. Her mind was racing, as it always is, in a thousand different directions, asking a thousand different questions. So much was at stake, so much left to be answered. Cleo was gasping for air. This happened often to her, most times when she found herself in a dead end. All she needed was a new direction. One that would lead to all the answers she desperately seeked.

The sound of a horn broke through. All heads turned towards the stairs. Obedience shushed the adoring court and silence fell over the garden. Cleo dared turn her gaze.

A young man, dressed all in white, stood at the top of the stairs, the prettiest of flowers. And from the murmurs and surprised looks of the court, he seemed to be the most exotic one too.

"The New Dawn of Versailles, the Crown Prince, Gabriel Aliversalux."

After a hesitant bow from his father's court, the Prince stepped down the stairs and made his way through the ballroom towards the throne, his steps echoing against the crowd. As he came near, Cleo could not help but wonder at such a beautiful face, gifted with as much poise as it had honesty.
Once the Prince had reached the Throne, he clicked his heels together and put his hands behind his back. Through his manners, you could see he was a fine, refined young man, yet his face showed none of the gratified assurance that was draped over every face in the court.

Again, the horn sounded and broke through the whispers and snickering, and like a perfectly rehearsed routine, all turned their heads back to the Palace.

"All hail Daedel Aliversalux, King Zenith of Alithia."

The King's name by itself sufficed to press the crowd into a bow. In an effort not to draw attention to herself, Cleo forced a deep reverence too. The King, draped in gold, stepped down the stairs like a star from heaven. Sighs and exclamations could be heard everywhere, as the King walked down, his train covering the stairs in gold and jewels. Not a look could sustain his as he blessed us all by descending from the palace and looking into the crowd, for he was too bright, too great, too powerful.
Time seemed to have stopped as he walked to the throne. Only light persisted.

Once the trance over and the King at last on the throne, everyone at the ball let out the breath they held and applauded such an apparition. His low voice resonated in the garden.

"In a time now forgotten, after the night had devoured our world, Aten, God from the South, sacrificed his life among us to become the sun and illuminate our lands.
It is said, that while ascending to the Heavens, betrayed by Nyx and martyred to live in solitude, a single tear fell from the eyes of the sun down onto earth. And from this single drop of light, the human race learned how to seek out the darkness, chase it and destroy it, so that it would never be again.
Soon, glorious days of gold were upon us, and Versailles would be born."

Applause broke in the crowd. Laughter rose from courtesans, already drunk with champagne. Cleo felt uneasy.

In the simplest of gestures, the King demanded silence in order to continue.

"On the night before a new Festival of Light, it is of the upmost importance to remember our history, our lineage and our legacy. As Aten once shone his light on our great kingdom, it is time now for us to spread our light to the rest of the world. We stand at the Dawn of a new Alithia, where darkness shall never prevail."

In another round of applause, Cleo's eyes were on the young prince. He was the only one to remain unmoved. After a brief moment, the King gestured to him without a glance, making him step forward into the dancefloor.

"As expected by tradition, the Crown Prince will open the celebrations by inviting a lady of his choosing to dance, marking the end of his young life. Like our people did in the Eternal Night, we look to the future with hope and ambition. This year, on the day of his sixteenth birthday the Prince of Alithia shall be wed to Princess Agatha of Minior, forging an alliance like our world has never seen before. With this union, Alithia will prosper more than ever, and no one and nothing will stop us from shining on this world more brightly than before."

The prince turned to his father, and the King nodded back.

The young man bowed his head and took a breath. A warm gust of wind blew out in every direction. Suddenly, light bursted and poured from between his hands. In a swift movement, he threw his hands to the sky, and a pillar of light  ascended towards the stars. As quickly as it rose up, it flared out in millions of sparks, like tears descending from the heavens to bless each and every Alithian.

The crowd broke into cheers and bravas. Almost entranced, some people bursted into hilarity, others fainted into the arms of their consort. The King rose and opened his arms:

"It is time for light to reign supreme."

Through the frenzy, Cleo's eyes darted at the Prince.

Light falling all around him, he was already holding out a hand in her direction, inviting her to dance.