[story] the ball
author: kait (personsama)



Segna sighed, and slouched in his chair.

Hidden in an empty parlor tucked into a far corner of the palace, he was free to think about how he'd rather be anywhere but here, maturity and duty be damned. The fact that his birthday was during the Carnival season was advantageous, but his parents almost always used it to draw attention to him.

These kinds of things were so dull.

Cavorting around the town, indulging in the mayhem with all of the people of the city, that was much more attractive than attending balls.

It was something new this year, something his parents had come up with. "Just wait, Segna. I'm sure you'll meet a lovely girl."

He sighed, and swirled his glass. "I don't want a bloody princess. Not yet." Besides, what was the point of meeting a girl during a series of masked balls? It wasn't a guarantee that he'd meet the same lady each time, and if there was some chance that he did, what were the odds of him actually liking her?

He would have thought that it was only a (misguided) way for him to enjoy the Carnival season, but his mother was behind it all. His mother. Who thought it was a travesty, an absolute horror, that he was turning twenty-nine in a matter of days, and still not yet married.

He rolled his eyes. As the eldest child, the heir, surely there were more important things for him to be spending his time worrying about.

Apparently, there weren't. The only thing worth worrying about now was whether tonight was good for the simple-yet-elegant hunter-green-and-black ensemble, or if the more formal navy-blue-and-silver set would be best if saved for the final ball.

He scowled. Was this worth his time? Really? He couldn't care less. He drained his glass.

If only it was poison. Then I wouldn't have to worry.

An unfair thought, yes, but there it was. The only surefire way to get out of this tonight.

Sighing, he forced himself out of the chair, and tore his eyes away from the sunset. Leaving the parlor, he shoved his glass in a niche in the wall, idly wondering how long it would be before a servant found it, before deciding that he didn't care.

He was apathetic about a lot of things these days.

He briefly debated wandering around before heading back to his room, pretending he had a hangover, so he wouldn't have to go out. He shook his head. No matter what, it was happening whether he liked it or not.

This is, in a word, ridiculous.





Three hours later, Segna swung open the double doors, masked and costumed. He stalked into the ballroom, ignoring the twitters of the noble ladies (and some that weren't, he saw, though why they'd want to be here was beyond anyone), and stood before his father's throne. It wasn't time for the ball to start yet.

When he got to the elevated tier, he stopped. "Good evening, Father, Mother. I trust your day was quite... satisfactory?"

His father, the king of their city-state, laughed. It was a booming sound that echoed. "Of course, Segna! Everything is going just as it should be."

Segna nodded. "And you, Mother?"

She smiled softly. "It was quite pleasant. Thank you for coming tonight. Of course you would rather join the revelry."

Not in this getup. "The choice of clothing does not condone it, I'm afraid."

She laughed, and he took his place behind his father's throne with his brothers and sisters.

They all talked amongst themselves, eating up time before the ball was due to start. He occupied himself with finding a woman to start things off with. He could probably find a way to weasel out of as many dances as he liked, but there was no way that he would be able to avoid the first dance.

He tugged at his too-tight collar. Of course he would get his least favorite choice: a regal outfit of red and gold, tailored to feel most uncomfortable. The collar was a bit too tight, the pants a bit too rough - it was always a shame that this never manifested itself before the clothes were completed.

Finally, after scanning the room, his eyes fell on a young lady towards the back. She seemed to be with a young (male) friend of hers, if the coordinating outfits were any indication. Her hair was pulled back almost severely, and her gown was simple compared to many. One of the commoners who had managed to sneak in tonight, perhaps?

It didn't matter. All that meant was that she would be more interesting.

The tower bells announced the twentieth hour. His father spouted the generic "welcome to the ball, let's enjoy ourselves tonight and the rest of this carnival season" gist. He tuned it out and memorized his lady's position.

He couldn't tell if she was beautiful or not underneath that mask. There were many other women he could have danced with, but his choice had been made. He smiled. He was sure that the reason she was far back was so she wouldn't have to dance.

This would be fun. He wouldn't be the only one miserable tonight.





Where was she? He was sure she was around somewhere. People weren't stepping out of his way, and here he was in the thickest parts of the crowd, almost about to lose her.

He finally saw a flash of dark green, and a lighter of layer of soft pink. He stepped toward her and the crowd started to back out of the way. The lady looked startled, and her friend just grinned. She started to rise, but her friend pushed her back down. She said something he couldn't hear, and her friend whispered back, squeezing her shoulder.

"What's the point of wearing a mask, if the whole crowd knows you? My Lord."

Segna chuckled, genuinely amused. "What's the point, indeed. What is your name?"

"My name is Marco." Did he hear a brief moment of hesitation?

"Marco. May I have the pleasure of your friend's company for this first dance?"

Marco shrugged. "Be my guest."

Segna's eyes lingered on him for a brief moment more, slightly suspicious, then found their way back to the lady. "May I ask your name?"

She, like her friend, paused. "My name is Aureline, Majesty."

She was nervous. He brought her gloved hand to his lips. "May I have this first dance with you tonight, Aureline?"

She nodded. "Of course, my Lord."

He led her through the crowd onto the dance floor, joining his siblings and parents in the first dance. Segna's eyes narrowed; he knew this dance. It was a slow one, which wasn't bad, but it was long. Aureline didn't give any indication that she knew about it.

She was a good partner. He looked down. She seemed nervous. Hm. Maybe I can keep her with me longer. I don't want to be the only one miserable tonight. "How old are you?"

She looked up at him, drawing her eyes away from his chest, where they had been burning a hole. "I'm twenty-five, my Lord."

"Not so much younger than me."

"No."

There was silence for a few seconds longer. "What do you like to do?"

She took a breath, evidently calming herself. "I make masks, my Lord."

"In a shop?"

A flush spread up her neck. "Yes."

Segna smiled. "I had guessed. Makes you more fun. Was this your idea, or his?"

"His."

"He must not have planned for it to go this far."

"No." She smiled, seeming for a moment just as crafty as Marco. "Tell me, my Lord, what do you do in your spare time?"

He laughed. "Will you use it against me?"

Her smile deepened. "How can I? Would it cause you embarrassment?"

A common girl who sneaked into the ball, and was managing to make this somewhat enjoyable? This couldn't stop with one dance. Now it was just getting good. He opened his mouth, as the music drew to a stop, visibly relieving her. He whispered in her ear, right before he let her go, "Meet me out on the balcony an hours before the ball ends."

She curtsied, he bowed.

"Until then."

He watched her go, and she was swallowed up in the crowd before he realized it.





Sitting near the throne with a glass of wine, Segna replayed their conversation. Aureline, twenty-five, mask-maker. Part of him wondered if she was married to Marco. If they were, surely they would have had more fun things to do than crash a masked ball.

"So, Segna." He looked up, and glared.

"What do you want, Isabella?"

She laughed. "You seemed to get along quite well with that woman."

He blinked lazily. "Are you reporting back to Mother?"

She laughed once again, and he didn't understand what was so funny. "I don't need to. My friends would love to be your future bride. You know all of them, too."

"Yes, well enough for me to remember why I've sworn off women."

"Our parents wouldn't be too pleased if you told them that you fancied men."

Segna shrugged, and took a sip of his wine, watching her over the rim of glass. "What if I do?"

"Do you?"

"I might."

She shook her head. "You're horrible, do you know that?"

It was his turn to laugh. "I get that a lot. Don't you have men to throw yourself at?"

She tossed her head. "Are you going to sit here all night? Or engage in this? That that would make our parents happy."

His gaze looked past her at the clock. "I don't care," he mumbled distractedly.

He stood up, leaving his glass. He may as well dance until then. It beat sitting around doing nothing, especially if he wanted to convince this Aureline (and Marco, he supposed) to return tomorrow. He grinned. It would be the hunter-green-and-black tomorrow, which was comfortable and wouldn't make him stick out. "Excuse me, sister."

He didn't get a step farther when his youngest sister grabbed his hand. "Dance with me, Segna! You promised!"

The grin remained. "I did, didn't I? Come on."





The night had gone exactly as planned. The women he had danced with had all been pleasant - some better dancers than others, some more talkative than others, but all sweet girls in their own right. Now, however, it was time for him to meet who he knew was the girl of his dreams. It was silly. Surely she wasn't the only girl who had crashed the ball that night, but it seemed that Fate had decided to smile on him. It would seem that his swearing off women would soon be over, much to his delight.

He strode outside with a glass of wine in each hand: red for himself, and a pale blush for Aureline, a pink that matched the color of her gown. The cool air was refreshing on his face. All the candles together made the room quite warm, and dancing wasn't exactly light work. He took in a deep breath, enjoying the salty air and the breeze coming from the ocean more than he normally did, and smiled when his eyes fell on Aureline. She was hugging herself at the balcony, in the farthest corner from the door, cold and unused to the breeze. Maybe she had simply planning on spending the night inside?

Too late now.

"I'm sorry my outfit doesn't come with a detachable cloak."

She jumped, and the corners of her mouth twitched when she turned. "Don't worry. Please. I wasn't expecting to come out here tonight."

Called it. He held out the blush to her. "For you, if you like."

The smiled on her face deepened slightly. "Thank you. You shouldn't have."

He laughed. "Think nothing of it, lady."

She nodded. "If I may, my Lord?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you call me out here? Surely we could have stayed inside... ?"

Segna's gaze swept over the ocean. "Are you too cold out here?" She shook her head. Liar. "Good. I find it so much more enjoyable out here, with the breeze and fresh air. I had hoped that you would enjoy it as well."

"I do," she said hurriedly, almost desperately. He shook his head slightly, hoping she didn't see. "I really do. It's so beautiful out here."

"I'm glad you appreciate it. Not very many people do."

She turned to him surprised. "Really? How can they not?"

He nodded. "Well, apparently seeing it every day takes everything away from it."

"I can't imagine that happening."

"How can you still find it beautiful? We live in the City of Canals, after all. All water, all the time."

She smiled slightly, and turned her gaze back to the ocean. "I... I don't know. But there's still magic here. Looking out, I can feel it, Segna, can't you?"

He blinked, somewhat surprised by her brief rambling. "I suppose." He looked away and around the balcony area, then saw a bench, isolated and surrounded by his mother's flowers. Perfect. "Come with me, Aureline. We can talk in more privacy."

She looked where he was, somewhat surprised. "If you insist," she said, then sat down beside him. "You can still feel it, can't you? The wind?"

Segna wordlessly gave her his glass, and she held it while he took off his mask. She let out an unintentional and very audible gasp. He lay his mask on the bench beside him, ran a hand through his hair, and took his glass back. He closed his eyes. "Now I can."

"My Lord..."

He looked at her, shaking from more than just the cold, and laughed. "Don't worry. You should take yours off too. It makes things so much more enjoyable."

She shook her head. "No, thank you, my Lord, I--"

"Segna."

She jumped. "P - Pardon?"

"Call me Segna. You did earlier, with no problem. Or did you just not realize it?"

"I... I didn't realize, my -" She caught herself. "Segna. I should have done so. I'm sorry."

"Do you think I care about things like that, Aureline?" He looked at her eyes, a light shade of brown. "That's a very beautiful name. Aureline."

She smiled slightly. "My mother loved pretty things."

"And your father?"

"Liked the name."

"I see." He laughed. "This would be really awkward if one of my sisters was named Aureline."

Her smiled deepened. "I understand."

It was quiet for a few moments. Segna laughed to himself. He'd never in his life imagined getting nervous around a girl. It wasn't that he was nervous now. It was just that he was - forget it. He'd worry about it later. "Violin."

Her eyes flicked themselves to him, and she finished taking the sip from her glass. "Violin?"

"I told you when we stopped dancing that I would tell you what I liked to do. I play the violin."

She smiled. "You should play for me sometime."

He grinned. "I should." He leaned closer, but stopped when she put a hand on his chest.

"I'm sure many girls would never pass this up. But, well, I don't like the idea of..." She looked down, embarrassed.

He nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable."

She shook her head. "No! Don't be, I'm sure you're used to other girls..."

"That doesn't excuse--"

"Stop." She looked him properly, straight in the eye, for the first that night. "Stop apologizing. Don't worry about it. It was innocent. I understand." He stared at her in silence for a few seconds, took her hand, and held it to his lips. She grinned, and took her hand back. "That I can handle."

He smiled. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about, Aureline."

She tilted her head, confused. "Yes? What is it?"

"I hope you're planning on coming to the ball tomorrow."

"I was, yes."

He grinned. "Wonderful. I want to sneak out tomorrow. You and me. Join in the revelry in the town."

Aureline laughed. "Marco will have to come with us. Even though he does it every year, things change, and he finds out quickly where the best things are. Doubtless he has friends down there tonight. It will be so much more enjoyable with him there."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes." She grinned. "How will I know you?" Segna took off one of his rings, and put it on her finger. "This looks like--"

"I know." I wouldn't mind. "Wear it. We'll meet out here, after the first dance. Right here."

"How will I know you? You haven't told me."

"I'll take off my mask again. It's kind of hard to duplicate my face."

She laughed. "Yes." She stood up. "I'll see you."

Segna stood, but before he could get any further, the glass doors leading back into the ballroom hit the wall with enough force to smash, startling both of them. The sight that met their eyes was Marco and a few other men being chased by the guards. Aureline gasped. "Marco!"

"Ha. Now you have nowhere else to run."

Marco parried the guard's strike, and smirked. "You don't know us well." He turned around, and saw them. "Aureline! There you are! Leave lover boy here. We've gotta go!"

She nodded and started running toward them, but stopped abruptly when a hand grasped her wrist. "What are you doing? Let me go! Now!" He pulled her close, and she started pounding on his chest. "I have to go! Stop it!"

He grabbed her jaw and looked into her eyes, fully aware that to her, those seconds lasted an eternity. In a split second, he put his hand behind her head, and his lips met hers. Her mouth opened in shock, and he took advantage of the opportunity. He kept her there, until the need for air forced him away. She glared at him, and he could see the hurt and shock in her eyes. "Tricks are all part of Carnival, my dear." Her eyes widened, and he felt a sharp pain in his cheek. As soon as he realized she'd slapped him, she fled into the arms of Marco, who didn't miss the opportunity to give Segna an obscene gesture as he swept Aurelia down into the boat where their compatriots were waiting.

Her mask had clattered to the floor, and if he'd thought to look closer, he could have seen her face.

"Stop." The guards did as he had said, bewildered.

"But, my Lord, they're...."

Segna fingered his cheek. "Are you going to disobey a direct order? Go inside. Help calm the guests. Clean up. Do something. I don't care. Just don't follow them." The guards did as he had done, and went back inside.

He went over to the balcony, and watched their boat until it rounded a corner, out of his sight. Why had he done that? He didn't know. Part of him knew he couldn't blame it on the wine. It was things like this that made him swear off women. Luckily that didn't happen often, and when it did, that was as far as it got. Each time was a burden, though. Men were never in it for the emotional baggage. They were so much more physically attractive, besides.

And his family asked why he spent so much time with his violin. Funny. It was the only thing that wouldn't judge him. That and the wine, but any more than he already drank and it was trouble waiting to happen. He sighed, and turned her pink and green mask over in his hands.

He wouldn't be the only one who was miserable that night.



the end