The masquerade ball was even more crowded than the Full Moon ball from what Giselle could remember about that night which wasn't so long ago now that she thought about it.
Draperies were bathed in gold and red; the colors Giselle had chosen. She smiled to herself, pleased. It looked just as regal as she'd hoped. Maybe even the King was pleased, but if he was she couldn't tell. He wasn't present yet, for some reason or the other. Tonight, she sat on the smaller chair beside his throne, a bit too tired to promenade the ballroom and converse with guests though she knew that eventually she would have to. Lysara was down there, as expected, laughing and enjoying herself with other ladies. Giselle couldn't spot her even from her semi-bird's-eye-view.
Since everyone wore a colorful, decorated mask of sorts, no one looked familiar. All she could identify her lady-in-waiting with was the elegantly beautiful blue dress she was wearing when they'd arrived earlier.
"Greetings, your Highness," A noblewoman said with a curtsy. Her companion did the same, bowing instead. "You look beautiful tonight, what a lovely dress!"
Giselle dismissed the couple with a smile and a nod of her head. The gown she wore was perhaps the heaviest she had ever worn in her life apart from her wedding dress. It was sewn from a velvet emerald material with part of the bodice layered with raw silk and the hems hand-stitched with precious gemstones. Her mask was made of the same material, covering only her eyes and also strewn with gems. It was an apparel fit for a Queen, indeed.
The ballroom was alive with light and movement. Golden chandeliers hung overhead, scattering a warm glow over masked nobles as they drifted across the polished floor. Music swelled softly from the orchestra at the far end of the hall, setting a steady rhythm beneath the low hum of conversation.
Giselle sat on the throne beside Fabio's empty one, maintaining the pleasant smile expected of her. Courtiers approached in a steady stream, offering practiced compliments and half-meant well wishes. She responded politely, though her mind was elsewhere. Every time the main doors opened, her stomach tightened just a little.
He was late.
The feeling didn't last long, however. This time when the doors opened, all went silent. The tension broke when the herald's voice rang out.
"Announcing His Majesty, King Fabio of Montegnera."
The crowd parted as Fabio entered. He wore deep charcoal trimmed with black and silver, a simple crown resting against his dark hair. His mask was a similar dark hue, very typical of him. He didn't need fanfare to draw attention; his presence commanded it.
Giselle rose with the others and curtseyed as well. For a moment, his eyes swept the hall before settling on her. The weight of that gaze was steady, unreadable. He walked toward the dais, nodding at the nobles who bowed as he passed. When he reached the throne, he greeted her with a single, curt incline of his head.
"Your Majesty," she said softly.
"Queen," he answered, voice smooth but distant.
They sat side by side. The silence between them wasn't new, but tonight it felt heavier. She focused on the dancers twirling below, pretending not to feel his presence like a quiet pressure at her side.
Then the Master of Ceremonies announced the opening of the first royal dance. All eyes turned toward the thrones. Fabio rose without hesitation and extended his hand toward her.
"Shall we?"
She placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her down the steps. Their entrance drew every gaze in the room. Whispers followed them as they took their place at the center of the floor.
The orchestra began a slow, graceful waltz. Fabio placed his hand at her waist; she rested her other hand lightly on his shoulder. Their movements were synchronized from long habits, gliding smoothly through the opening steps. Giselle remembered the last time they danced together, like fawns learning each other's steps. Now, they seemed to predict the other's next step; his body leaning forward as she leaned back.
Yet it was still purely formal—just two monarchs performing their duty before their court. She tried not to think about yesterday, about how his lips felt so impossibly soft against hers, about how much she still craved it…
"You're quiet," Fabio said under his breath, eyes fixed ahead.
"I wasn't aware we were expected to make conversation," she replied evenly.
The faintest hint of amusement flickered across his face. "You've grown bolder."
"I've grown tired," she corrected.
That earned her a sidelong glance. For a heartbeat, something softer passed through his expression—something almost sad. It unsettled her. For a split second, she thought his eyes fell to her lips.
They turned with the music, and he spoke again, lower this time. "Tell me, Giselle. If you were given the chance to leave this behind, would you take it? No strings attached?"
The question caught her off guard. "What?"
"A simple question," he said. His face gave nothing away.
She searched his eyes but found no clear motive there. "I… I don't know." Because she truly didn't. Her parents had drummed into her the essence of duty, her ultimate place in the family. It wasn't something she despised even though it wasn't all roses. Was he already bored of their game of push and pull? Was this not the same famed 'Black Wolf' that threatened her and her parents while they pleaded on their knees? Did he truly want her to leave now, after everything he had put her through? Was this some kind of test?
Giselle truly didn't understand anything anymore.
His hand tightened slightly at her waist before he eased his grip. "Honest," he said.
She didn't know what he meant by that, and before she could ask, the music swelled toward its end. The dance concluded to a wave of polite applause. Fabio released her and stepped back.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of white. Lucien was already approaching. He cut through the gathered nobles with effortless charm, his silver mask sitting perfectly on his face, a knowing smile on his lips.
"Majesty," he greeted Fabio with a respectful nod, then turned to her. "My queen. Might I claim the next dance?"
Fabio's expression was unreadable. He inclined his head once as if it were something he'd rehearsed multiple times. "Of course."
Giselle hesitated a fraction of a second before accepting Lucien's hand. His touch was light but deliberate, and the crowd reacted with a mix of curiosity and anticipation as he led her back onto the floor.
Lucien was a different partner entirely. Where Fabio was controlled and precise, Lucien was fluid, almost playful. He moved with practiced ease, drawing her into the rhythm.
"You're tense," he said quietly.
"It's been a long day with a lot of preparations." she answered.
"Understandable, the place turned out wonderfully too. I must admit, I am quite impressed by the level of welcome I received here in Montegnera."
Giselle smiled tightly, "It's our honor to host you, my Lord. I am glad the ceremony is to your liking."
"It is indeed. You even painted the draperies red, for me, I was told." he said, his gaze sharp even as he smiled. "You have quite the audience. And quite the husband."
She didn't respond.
"You deserve better than to be looked at like a problem to be solved," he continued. "A woman like you should be admired."
She stiffened slightly. "You speak boldly for a guest."
"I speak truthfully," he countered, his voice smooth. "And I watch. Closely. Fabio hides no secrets from me, as you may know. We have known each other since boyhood."
They spun with the rhythm of the violin, Giselle struggled to grip her heavy dress and startled when a cold hand was already there, holding it up for her.
"What are you doing?"
"Helping." An admittedly attractive grin sat on his face. Giselle balked. If she thought Fabio annoying and prideful, then Lucien was probably his tutor. "I could hear your heartbeat falter with fear. You always seem so confident to the untrained eye, but you, my Queen, are crumbling within."
Giselle swallowed, overwhelmed by the vampire's scent—it was like the strongest of wines, fermented for years.
The music shifted. He leaned in just enough for only her to hear. "Have you ever watched a caged bird when the door is left open, Giselle? It hesitates at first. Not because it loves the cage, but because it's forgotten what the sky feels like."
Her steps faltered for a brief second. She recovered quickly, but he noticed.
"What are you implying?" she asked carefully.
The dance ended before he answered. Applause rippled again. They bowed to one another as was the polite custom but Lucien didn't release her hand this time. Instead, he guided her toward the open garden doors. Giselle tried not to think about how it seemed from others point of view; the Queen and a visiting King, walking off hand in hand to the gardens. She was curious as to what the vampire had to say to her.
The air outside was cool and clean, a welcome change from the heat of the ballroom. Lanterns lined the stone paths, their light flickering softly against the dark hedges.
"You're beautiful, Giselle." the King of Ravathorne said, his voice low. "You deserve someone who understands what a queen is truly worth. Someone who doesn't treat you like a burden to be managed. I know what you did to save your family and your sister from shame, it was very noble."
"It was my choice. I could easily have chosen to say no."
"And that's what makes you a true queen, Giselle. You're the type of Queen that any kingdom would pray for. Dare I say it, you're the type of Queen that my kingdom needs."
He studied her for a moment before lowering his voice. "I can offer you a choice, Giselle. A way out of this life. You don't have to stay chained to a man who clearly wants nothing to do with you."
Her pulse quickened, though she kept her expression neutral. "You're assuming I'm looking for an escape."
"Aren't you?"
She met his gaze steadily. "And if I said no?"
He smiled faintly. "Then I would think you are either incredibly loyal… or incredibly foolish."
"I'm neither," she said firmly. "I won't leave just to become someone else's pawn."
Something sharp flickered in his eyes, quickly masked by charm. "It wouldn't be like that."
"It always is," she said. "And Fabio is your friend, why would you betray him in this way?"
"Things aren't always as they seem, Giselle. Of course, I would never betray my friend but I cannot ignore my heart either."
She exhaled sharply, "I…I'm sorry but I must decline."
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then he inclined his head gracefully. "As you wish, Your Majesty. But my offer always stands, we could create the strongest empire together if fate is on our side. I simply wish for your happiness, it troubles me that your days in this palace has been mired with pain. How can I support my friend for causing you such pain?"
Even though Giselle was still wary of the vampire, his genuine words melted her heart. She hesitated.
Somewhere deep down, the bond she shared with Fabio flared to life, reminding her of where she stood.
"You are very generous, Lucien. Perhaps I judged you too quickly but…I don't think I can."
Lucien nodded once, stiffly. "It's your choice, milady. We'd best be heading back, then."
He offered his arm, and she reluctantly took it. As they re-entered the ballroom, she caught sight of Fabio watching from the upper balcony overlooking the large ballroom. His expression was calm, but his gaze was locked on her and Lucien with unsettling intensity.
The music played on, the nobles laughed and whispered, but something in the air had shifted. She felt it like a chill beneath her skin.