I wiped my palms on my silver dress what seemed to be the millionth time that evening, but the rough silver stitchings didn't seem to absorb my sweat. The dress was beautiful, even I could see that, but there was more to it than met the eye.
The silver fabric of the sleeves and bodice fitted snug around my skin, but I could move in it with ease. Allie had boasted about the craftsmanship, and had proudly showed me everything this dress had up its sleeve—literally. It wasn't just a silver-coloured ball gown, but an armoury in itself. The sleeves of the dress were decorated with hard fragments of mirrors or metal, which seemed like useless, crafty ornaments to the untrained eye. However, a simple flick of my wrist activated a mechanism which made the fragments shoot up, forming a line of razor-sharp shards on my arms. Even then, if I didn't do that, the fragments formed a hard armour, which protected my arms and shoulders from any blows. The bodice of the dress had been enforced, protecting my abdomen and chest with a hard shell. The pins which held up my hair were as sharp as a razor as well, and they could function as daggers if I failed to reach or lost the gun and blade strapped around my thighs, safely hidden beneath my skirts.
And all of that wasn't even the most impressive of all: if I pressed the red gem embedded in the silver necklace around my neck, the silver of the dress would fade away, leaving behind a midnight black. The fabric would tighten around my body, forming a suit in which I could move easily. Another press, and the dress would return to its usual form and colour. The necklace, however, remained the same, whatever the form or colour of the dress.
The first time I pressed the button and felt the fabric on my skin churn into black, it had felt like the dress had been alive. The material moved, slithering and changing, like a snake which shed its skin. It frightened me, although I had to admit I could move effortlessly—much more than the tunic and pants I had been training in. The synthetic material was completely smooth when turned to black, making it easy to slip through the air vents and hide in the shadows. Naturally, I had to get used to the dress before I could actually use it. Allie had shown me the ropes, like she always did, showing me which movements unlocked which weapons, and which gestures would make them return to their original place.
Vace had almost gotten a heart attack when he had heard what the price of the suit had been, but Allie had assured him it was a good investment. "Justice comes at a price," she had said, "Figuratively and literally." Vace had just groaned and had watched me train with Haco, quietly admiring the craftsmanship of the suit. I had heard him whistle a low tone when I had whipped out the fragments, pulling one off and throwing it in one of the targets on the other side of the room. I had just found out that that was possible, and I was trying to train with that as much as I could before the ball—and thus the mission. The fragments had a surprisingly good balance, making it easy to hurl them through the room. Luckily for me, the fragment went through the target not too far from the bullseye. Vace nodded approvingly, before leaving us. After a couple (dozen) more tries, I had gotten the hang of it, and I could hit the target with ease. I had always liked throwing daggers, and since I had done that a lot at home I was fairly good at it. I just hoped I didn't have to use that skill on someone tonight.
The Fairlands Residence was beautiful in its own way, like all of the Houses in the Higher District. The ballroom looked like it was located in a forest, with a blue ceiling covered with lapis lazuli and pillars which slightly resembled trees. The composition and colouring was completely off, of course, but I liked how they had tried to copy the calm of a forest, by even having a waterfall covering one side of the ballroom. There was a small orchestra there, consisting of a man playing an instrument with countless strings and a woman hitting a sort of instrument with metal pipes, which produced beautiful sounds. There was a couple singing as well—which were definitely brother and sister according to their matching fiery red hair and green robes—their voices calm and serene which fitted with the ambiance of the ballroom. I definitely liked this more than the Jadefire Mansion, which had been made completely out of glass, where I had felt watched the entire time, or the cold, dark Darkloft Tower with its beautiful botanic garden—the garden where my world had been turned upside down, the garden where I had seen Kael. Or at least, where I thought I had seen him.
I sipped my sparkling wine, watching the uppers mingle in front of me. Riven hadn't felt well, so she wasn't here tonight. I betted it had to do with the fact that Ayden Farhallow hadn't come today either; he had had a poetry gathering, or something. The uppers really liked playing with the written word—and spoken, for that matter.
"I heard Lord Fairlands' son has returned from his journey to the Citadel," a lady wearing a bright blue and green gown whispered hoarsely, "He is believed to be promised to someone soon." She sipped on her fifth glass of sparkling wine, her cheeks and nose red under her cosmetics. The lights of the chandelier overhead reflected in her peacock necklace, shining right in my eyes.
The gossiping ladies who had had urged me to join them not too long ago gasped, laying a hand over their mouth or chest to explain their surprise. "I bet he is handsome. His father wasn't a pain to look at either, back in his day." "No, I heard he's a priest now, his manhood burnt in a chafing dish with sale." "Certainly not, he has already been wed with someone, some low-born lady." "I thought he was dead." "No one asked you, Janette," I heard around me, the ladies five sharing the latest rumours. I had to hide my grin in a cough, when I heard one of the rumours I had planted come by. I hadn't even planted that too long ago, and it had already been pulled out of its proportions, interpreted in the most dramatic way possible.
I coughed again, this time to grab the attention of the ladies: "Well, I have heard that he has promised himself to someone. The scandal," I said, on a conspiratorial tone. They all knew it was the job of the head to wed their sons, and even then, not without the consent of the two parties involved. The ladies in question always had a say in the matter, even though they sometimes didn't have a choice. I planted the lie, leaving the ladies to their gossiping, as I slipped away. It pained me to hear those ladies talk about Kael in such a matter, making it sound like he was a piece of merchandise, or just an object worth gossiping about. I couldn't help but remember the kiss he had given me—the kiss for which he had waited for years. I had only later realised he had loved me, and I had been blind to see it for so long.
I wondered how life would have been if we had remained in camp, far away from the Globes. Would we have been together, if he had confessed his feelings earlier? Would I have loved him too?
Instead of pondering on questions I would probably never get an answer to, I wandered around, politely declining the offers of uppers to dance with me when they came to me. 'I'm not feeling so well,', or, 'I have matters to attend to,' usually did the trick. Another lord came up to me, the second son of the Rosengarde Head Lady, if I recalled correctly—the Family which Allie had her ties to. I understood why she couldn't be seen in the Upper District. He was clothed in a black suit, a rose sticking out of his pocket. His velvet gloves were the same shade of red, and his eyes were light blue—it was almost like they were white, blending in with the whites of his eyes. He widened his eyes, which creeped me out more than he probably intended. He probably thought his gaze would intrigue me, or he just wanted to show off his retina scan—which I could recognise by the small white dot in the centre of his left pupil. It served the same purpose as the arm scan of the regg, though it was more subtle and without the ability to hold credits. The retina scan was solely used for access to the Higher District, for if one had travelled from one Globe to another.
I didn't have to get a retina scan—luckily—but Mot had crafted a ring for me which granted the same liberties. Many uppers chose to embed their scan in a piece of jewellery, especially since the procedure of receiving a retina scan was expensive and had many risks. They never realised how easy it was to steal or fake a scan like I had myself, but then again, what did they have to worry about? The regg were believed to be happy and well-fed; they didn't have a reason to do such a thing.
"May I have the honour of this dance, my Lady Diyawood?" the blue-eyed lord asked, dipping his chin and offering his arm. As much as I enjoyed dancing, I had to decline, which I did accompanied with a small curtsy. It was a pity that I couldn't dance tonight—I had to stay sharp and be able to leave when I pleased, not being hindered by a lord swirling me across the dancefloor. The change of shifts of the guards could happen any moment, since the clock tower almost struck the hour after midnight. Despite the late hour, I was feeling pretty well. I had drunk some of that horrible, bitter 'coffee' Allie had offered me the other day, and it seemed to do its job.
When I heard the chiming of the clock, and saw the uppers stream on and off the dancefloor, I slipped away, quickly stepping to the door next to the fountain. The man on the string-instrument saw me, his dark eyebrows above his grey eyes rising, but I gave him a wink and slipped through the doorway. He winked back in a silent promise, resuming with his melodious song. He probably thought I was joining my secret lover somewhere out of sight—a façade I was willing to accept.
When I closed the white door behind me the music muffled immediately, the only sounds the running water of the waterfall on the other side of the wall and the softly humming pump which circulated the water. I was standing in a small room, the floor made of white marble tiles which were much less shiny and dustier than the ones in the ballroom. This wasn't a room meant for guests—I wasn't supposed to be here. Good. No stray uppers would catch me here. Out of the two doors on the opposite side of the room, I knew I should take the outer left one; I had bent myself over the map for hours yesterday, walking through the plans with Vace until I had nearly fallen asleep in my chair. There was no room for errors, so I had studied the map so the risk of getting lost would be eliminated. I knew which doors to choose, where the guards would be poised and which passageways formed the fastest path to the studies of Lord Fairlands. Haco had explained to me which powerlines to cut in case of an emergency, to kill the lights and plunge the hallways into complete darkness. The downside of that would be that all the guards would go to the malfunctioning area immediately; I had to use it as a last resort.
Barrels of red wine were stacked in one corner of the storage room: it seemed like they were going to swap the water in the waterfall with wine somewhere later that evening. That would be a surprise for the guests, the water suddenly turning red as blood and misting the minds of the ones who drank it. I supposed that would fit the extravagant manners of the uppers, and I assumed they would love it. For my sake, I hoped they would take the liberty to enjoy it as much as they could, so they wouldn't realise I had been gone for quite a while. I wasn't that eager to become a main subject in the gossip of the uppers, not when I had witnessed first-hand how crazy the theories could become.
This grand ball was all in honour of the return of the son of Lord Fairlands, the son which I only could imagine to be Kael. Lord Jonah Fairlands himself was a widower, and he didn't seem to have remarried or have a mistress. I assumed Kael was his only legitimate heir. I hadn't seen him anywhere yet, except for Lord Fairlands himself. He had been talking to Kyara Jadefire, a hyperactive teen who happened to be the head of her Family. They had left soon after Fairlands had given his opening speech and had spoken to all the important guests.
The room was dim and safe enough, so I pressed the ruby embedded in my necklace. The fabric of my dress rippled, heating slightly and transforming to black. I squeezed the ruby between my thumb and index finger until the dress had transformed completely. The material tightened against my skin, the skirts wrapping around my legs. I let the gemstone go, rolling my shoulders under the jet-black material. Where the suit had been snug before, it was tight now. I didn't mind, part from the bodice: this suit gave me a cleavage I had never had. It made me feel exposed; I couldn't help but feel a bit indecent. I tugged up the black material, in an attempt to cover it a bit more. I sighed and got over it, thinking about some uppers who were walking around basically half naked.
I repositioned my dagger in the sheathe fastened around my thigh—yes, my dagger. Vace had given it back to me, saying a familiar blade would keep me safer, despite the risks tied to it being a Black Iron blade. What he said was true, since I knew what the balance of this blade was, what the weight of it in my left palm was and what the speed of it would be when I hurtled it through the air. I had handled this blade my entire life, and saw it more as an extension of my arm—a deadly, black-shimmering, razor-sharp arm. I had sharpened it for a good part of the night yesterday, when I was lying in my bed. I hadn't been able to fall asleep, and had decided to sharpen the dull blade instead—Vace had neglected it horribly, something I hadn't expected from him. Then again, how could he know to sharpen the hardest iron known to man?
It felt good to have it back, and my cheeks heated when I thought of the giant hug I'd spontaneously given Vace when he had given it back to me. A watery smile formed on my lips when I thought about it. Vace had responded the same way he always did—with a sturdy nod, and an awkward pat on my back. That blasted boy was so rigid, he could as well be carved out of ice. Still, some of that ice had melted away when I had pulled back, as a small smile had tugged on his lips. And that I, of all people, had coaxed out that smile, made me even gladder than I had already been. He would open up, some day, I was sure of it.
Until then, I supposed I would just have to hug him more often. I supposed a good spar would loosen him up a little as well—I would certainly enjoy that. I made a deal with myself to kick his icy ass once I got back. I couldn't wait to try out some of the tricks Haco had taught me—even though he and Vace were thick as thieves and had probably taught each other those as well. I blinked, pulling back to reality. Maybe I had to use some of those tricks tonight. Well, hell was waiting for them, then, I thought. I flicked my wrist a couple of times, watching the metal fragments whip out and fold back a couple of times. I can do this, I told myself, trying to gather some courage.
It was time to get this show started—finally.