Gothick

Chapter Twelve

Emma didn't have to see all of this to imagine it. Music echoed throughout the corridors, filling her mind with those gay ladies and gentlemen in their costumes. Dominick requested that she stay in her room until he called-a request she wasn't entirely opposed to. She sat at her vanity, reading until the sun nearly sat. Finally, at half-past seven, Dominick summoned her.

He waited by her bedroom door, wearing a brown velvet suit and a mask resembling a fox's face. He reached out to grab her hand. Emma recoiled from a flash of déjà vu. Dominick retracted his hand, and his shoulders slumped. A pang of guilt ran through Emma. She reached out a hand, but he turned and left the room.

Emma hurried after him, following down to the double doors of the ballroom.

"Stay here," Dominick said. "When I throw open the doors, enter."

Emma clenched and unclenched her sweaty hands, and made sure to keep them away from the dress. At this rate, she was afraid of pulling the feathers out of the skirt. Dominick gave a quick smile, his hands fidgeting. For a moment, he really did remind Emma of a fox, and as quickly as one, he darted through the ballroom's entrance. She heard his voice from the other side, muffled and inaudible.

Emma closed her eyes. She wasn't there, waiting for hundreds of people to gawk at her. She was on that ocean side-hearing the waves roll in against the cliff wall. Seagulls flapped their wings overhead, and the smell of the sea prickled her nose. Black, angry clouds veiled the sky. A gust ripped through, but it didn't make the scene particularly unpleasant. Her hand grasped another's. Anthony's face was inches from hers. His blue eyes stared with such an intensity that she was sure that he could gaze into her soul. That was alright. Why would she ever want to hide anything from him? Anthony's cheeks lifted, and his eyes squinted the way they did when he smiled.

Emma opened her eyes, a tear trickling down her cheek. Dominick's murmurings felt miles away. It was only her, alone and possibly hundreds of miles from her home. What was even worse, she didn't know where home was. Emma's chest heaved, her eyes threatening to spill more tears.

No! Now was not the time for that! She wiped her eyes, and straightened herself. If there is one thing I'm going to be this evening, it's going to be presentable!

The doors swung open, and Emma hastily put on her mask. A wall of costumed people stood before her. Some gasped, others leaned in for a better look. Emma took a deep breath and entered. No more had she passed across the threshold did Dominick materialize from out of nowhere, snatch her hand, and lift it up.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Dominick said. His voice echoed throughout the room, raising over the guest's murmurs and gasps. "I give you Emma! You see! She is as harmless as a lamb! Does she have the pallid pallor of an untote? Do her eyes possess the ravenous glare of bloodlust? No! Emma, honored guests, is as human as you or I! I present to you the first reanimated human!"

Many of the guests remained fixated on her, many looked pale and nauseous. She focused on the costumes-there a woman dressed as a green peacock in a dress of shining satin; here a man wore a mask resembling a royal blue lion with black fur garnishing the collar. But still, the gazes...

Emma curtsied nervously. As she stood, her eyes fell on Agnes. The squat woman wore a costume lacking any embellishments or lace. In fact, it was just a plain gray dress. Agnes's face remained passive, so Emma couldn't judge what the chancellor was thinking. The woman's cold eyes seemed to pierce through Emma, and Emma fought back a shiver.

A clap rang through the ballroom, followed by several others, until eventually the whole party erupted into applause.

Emma rather disappear in a corner. She pulled away, but Dominick's grasp remained firm.