A Masquerade of Spiders

Chapter 23: First Lesson

The other nobles were likely to mistake it for an amethyst. Only a professional's eye through close scrutiny could detect the true value of the mask I now wore.

But no price could measure how precious this creation was to me.

I looked at myself in the mirror, at the glowing, glorious creature that I was. Walking artwork. Acquired beauty. Illusions one could feel, touch and taste.

This was what it meant to be on the top of the world. This was the face of a heart brimming with evil.

I smiled at my reflection.

"You are not happy. What is the purpose of your smile?" spoke a voice behind me that was at once both melodic, and toneless.

I whirled around to face the source of the voice, my gown rustling. For a moment, just a moment, I thought this was the assassin sent by Afali to silence me for my knowledge.

My heart wasn't put to ease when I saw who it was. If anything, I felt an exhilarating surge of excitement run through me.

"How... how did you find me? How did you get in? Did anyone see you?"

The turner inclined his head. He curved his mouth as if he were smiling. "Are you ready?" he asked me.

"You shouldn't be here," I whispered, taking several hurried steps towards him. "Someone could be listening."

"No one hears us," he said.

"How could you be so certain?"

He didn't reply. He stood before me, staring at me with eyes so dark and deep they would make the night look bright.

He waited.

I reached out and touched his shoulder, just to make sure he was real. As before, he was warm to the touch, radiating life and health. "I'm ready for the ball," I said.

"Are you ready to learn?"

"Now?"

"Yes. It won't take long."

My heart pounded in my ears. I pressed my fingers into his shoulder. I could feel the hardness of muscle.

He mirrored my gesture, and grabbed me by the shoulder, but tenderly, as if I were made of glass. "Just take off your mask."

"Emil..."

"Are you afraid?"

I paused before answering, "No."

He turned me around, so that I had my back to him. I could see our reflection in the mirror. Me, a creation of curves, colour and glitter, and him, wiry, tall, pale, dark and magnificent. He gently untied the hawk mask which I had just donned, taking it away. When he made to untie my inner silk mask, undressing my face like a hungry lover, I touched the back of his hand with my fingers, stopping him.

He understood and allowed me to do it myself.

I felt the air on my bare face, and he dared to touch the sensitive skin next to my eyes. He dared to trace his finger over where a mask should be.

I was drunk on the thrill, on the warmth of his touch.

"Let it come," he said into my ear. "Let it come until you feel it closing in. Then hide it, just like you did when you took the serum. Keep yourself just out of the maiden's reach."

The light in the room was already rippling. It had been more than a month since I took the serum—the effects were still powerful.

"If I can't hide?"