Gothick

Chapter Twelve

"I won't allow it!" her father said.

"You won't allow it?" Emma replied with indignation. A large man with hardly any neck glared at her. Emma swallowed, keeping her limbs from shaking. Her mother, a tall woman with auburn hair, stood in the corner with her arms crossed.

"Honestly, dear," Emma's mother said. "What future do you have with a sailor?"

"What future would you have for me?" Emma said, her face flushed. "One where I die wealthy and miserable?"

"I will not have you marry a common...mariner!" her father said.

"What about that German boy?" her mother asked.

Rap rap rap.

Emma grunted and rolled over.

"Come in!" Emma muttered.

The door opened, revealing Nan with a white bundle draped over her arm.

"Good morning," Nan said. "I see someone didn't sleep well."

Emma grunted once more and buried her head deeper into her mountain of pillows. Nan smiled, placing the bundle at the foot of Emma's bed.

"I was having another memory." Emma said.

"I hope it was a good one," Nan replied, opening the drapes.

"Not particularly," Emma said, not daring to look out at the day yet, lest her eyes shrivel in their weary state.

"What a shame," Nan said. "I suppose it's the bad memories that make the good ones all the better. Anyway, it's time to get up! It's nearly noon! We have much to do before the Ball tonight!"

Of course, the Ball. How could she have forgotten? Emma pressed her face harder into one of the pillows. Maybe if she smothered herself for long enough...

The bed creaked, and Emma felt Nan's body next to hers.

"Why so distraught?" the old woman asked. "This is to be a happy day!"

"It would be if you weren't worried about people staring at you like a caged animal," Emma replied. Nan placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It won't be that bad," she said. "If it is, I'll create an excuse for you to leave."

Emma peeked at the old woman from her pillow.

"Really?"

Nan nodded.

"No point in being where you don't want to be," she said. "But now, let's try on this dress, shall we? You at least have to make an appearance." The mattress sprung back up as Nan stood once again. The white dress laid over Emma's blanketed legs. Even beneath her sheets, Emma felt the silkiness of it. White feathers adorned the dress's skirt and collar. A mask lay on top. Its eyeholes were outlined in black, and the nose was pointed slightly and orange.

"It's a masquerade?" Emma asked, relaxing. At least people would have difficulty finding her.

Guests began to arrive right at five. The golden ballroom of Würde Manor filled with gentlemen wearing suits of velvet and satin, and women wore laced dresses with feathered headdresses. Some masks were petite and modest, while others nearly consumed the wearer's face. They all had one thing in common-each costume shined with color. By the time most of the guests arrived at seven, the ballroom looked like a kaleidoscope. At last, the band struck up a tune. People danced and laughed, their dresses and suit tails swirling about them on the dancefloor. A wall-length mirror hung at the end of the room, making the party look twice as large. A balcony wrapped around the second story; only accessible by a wooden, spiral staircase.