The day of the masquerade ball at the Duke's estate had finally arrived. Alex hadn't reached out to his friend all week — surely, Nathaniel must have been busy with preparations for the grand event.
The Young Lord, meanwhile, had something of his own in mind: he wanted to make sure the Duke wouldn't recognize him. He wanted to surprise him, perhaps even trick him for a while. Normally, his clothing leaned towards light and pastel shades: pale blues, gentle creams, and pure whites. But this time, he chose something entirely different.
He selected a mask that concealed his entire face save for his eyes. Black trousers, a matching vest over a white shirt, and a long, plum-colored coat draped over his frame. He topped it off with a black top hat and a dark wig to hide even the color of his hair. And finally, he decided to bring a cane to assist his foot.
Alex looked like a mysterious illusionist — and he really liked it. The outfit was the complete opposite of everything he usually wore.
Lady Carlston had complained of feeling unwell, and so Alex went to the ball alone. Though he worried for his mother, her absence played into his plan rather well. Without her at his side, no one would suspect who he truly was.
At the ball, everyone spoke in hushed voices, careful not to give themselves away. Alex stood quietly in the corner, observing the crowd. For the first time in his life, he was at a ball without drawing attention, without being watched, sought after, or admired. For the first time, he wasn't himself. And strangely… It felt like a relief.
But why? All season long, he believed he enjoyed his role — the charming Young Lord, as people liked to call him, — the beloved figure at every gathering. But now, he wasn't so sure. Perhaps… It seemed he had begun to tire of the part he played. This newfound anonymity he now experienced was surprisingly comforting. The "reclusive" Duke, it seemed, was having a stronger influence on Alex than he'd realized.
As the Young Lord observed the crowd, suddenly a lady appeared out of nowhere. She wore an intriguing mask and an elegant gown, and without a word, she made a graceful curtsy. Alex responded with a bow. The music called out to the guests eager to dance. The lady's gaze was fixed intently on Alex. He had no idea who she was — and, frankly, he didn't care. Enjoying his incognito and the playful thrill of the evening, he finally invited her to dance.
The lady moved exquisitely — even Alex couldn't help but notice. Dancing with her was a true pleasure. Could it be that she recognized him? No. Impossible.
After the dance, Alex bowed and resumed his slow stroll across the ballroom, searching for the Duke, but without any success. He slipped back into a corner and continued to observe.
Suddenly, someone leaned sharply close to Alex's ear from behind and whispered, "I recognized you at once, Young Lord."
Startled, Alex spun around.
The Duke was dressed in a breathtaking costume — a classic dark blue suit, adorned with shimmering dark blue feathers. His mask covered part of his face and head in feathers, leaving only a portion of his hair visible at the nape. It was a truly magical, fantastical appearance, like a mystical owl or raven. Alex appreciated the artistry.
At the same time a flicker of frustration crossed Young Lord's face, but he refused to give up. He approached the Duke with slow steps, his hands clasped behind his back around the cane.
— "Depends on who you were looking for," he whispered with a sly smile.
Nathaniel smirked.
— "You chose a stunning outfit. I must admit — for the first time, you weren't the center of attention. But you forgot to hide one of your most striking features."
— "And what might that be?" Alex cast an unconscious glance down at his costume, searching for whatever had betrayed him.
The Duke leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper.
— "Your celestial blue eyes."
Alex's face was completely hidden behind his mask, and he was immensely grateful for it, because a wave of heat rushed over him from head to toe. Embarrassment struck him with such force that he instinctively stepped back from the Duke's face as if in danger.
"Damn, he truly recognized me!"
— "All right, you win," Alex said, though his voice faltered. He cleared his throat. "By God, I was so determined to fool you."
The Duke laughed softly.
— "I'm sorry for spoiling your plans. Will you share your wicked scheme with me?"
At that moment, the lady Alex had danced with earlier approached them. She offered a graceful curtsey, but the Duke, evidently unwilling to play along with her performance, said at once:
— "Ophelia, how did you guess?"
— "Nathan," she replied with a playful huff, "have some respect for my disguise and don't call me by my name! You yourself asked your guests to respect the rules of the ball — how can you be so shameless! I just wanted to play a little longer with Young Lord Carlston!"
A sour feeling twisted in Alex's chest.
"So it was her? And they call each other by name, of course… And what did she mean by 'play with Young Lord Carlston'?"
— "How did you know it was me?" Alex asked aloud.
Ophelia smiled.
— "I spotted Nathan right away. But he was far too busy to notice me, watching some mysterious gentleman across the room. Who else could it be but you? And besides, you're the only one he would approach." She laughed lightly. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Young Lord Carlston. I regret that we didn't have time to get properly acquainted the last time we met. And I must say — you dance better than he does!"
Alex didn't quite know what to feel. The Duke chuckled.
— "Touché, Ophelia. Though it's true, dancing has never been my strength."
Still laughing, Ophelia turned to Alex again.
— "Shall we dance once more?"
Alex froze. He didn't know what to do. On one hand, she was the Duke's companion, his dear friend. It would be rude to refuse her. And a lady was not supposed to ask a gentleman for a dance so directly, and yet she had.
On the other hand, her flirty tone and boldness irritated Young Lord deeply. Her bluntness disturbed him more than he expected. Alex glanced at the Duke, as if searching for an answer.
— "Ophelia," said Nathaniel smoothly, "I believe the Young Lord might need a moment's rest."
— "Nonsense! The evening has only begun," Ophelia countered. "Young Lord, don't listen to Nathan, listen to your heart. Would you rather dance and enjoy this evening?"
Alex was stunned, once again thankful that his mask hid his frown. Refusing her was impossible. Without a word, he made a polite, restrained gesture of agreement. Ophelia beamed and led him back toward the ballroom.
They danced, though Alex barely looked at his partner. Irritation simmered under his mask. He hadn't wanted to dance with lady Ophelia. With anyone else, perhaps — but not with her. And yet, it would have felt wrong to refuse the Duke's childhood friend to her face, and even more absurd to fumble for excuses. So instead Alex focused on his steps, trying to keep the rhythm steady.
At some point during the dance, he noticed the Duke standing and watching them. That unsettled him more than he expected. For the first time in his life as a dancer, Alex misstepped. The error was small, but noticeable. His mood plummeted. Still, he finished the dance with grace, masking his irritation.
As they came to a stop, Ophelia leaned toward him and tried to support her dance partner.
— "You're a wonderful dancer, Young Lord. I always stumble, tonight must be my lucky night."
Alex only offered a curt bow in response. They began walking toward the Duke together. Before either could speak, a group of elderly lords approached with cheerful recognition.
— "Lady Ophelia, we knew it was you! No one else moves with such grace! And you, Your Grace, of course, who else would Lady Ophelia spend the evening with? But we're intrigued — who is your partner? Will the gentleman honor us with his name?"
Alex remained silent, still reeling from the misstep. He bowed silently, refusing to speak. The old guard laughed good-naturedly and accepted his silence as part of the game.
They commended the Duke for his brilliant idea of hosting a masquerade.
— "Without the masks," one chuckled, "no one would bother to dance with old logs like us." The Duke smiled politely and thanked them for their kind words about the ball.
— "I must give credit where it's due," he said. "A dear friend gave me the idea."
— "Ah! It must be your new friend, Young Lord Carlston," one of the lords exclaimed. "Of course! How did we not see it? You are Young Lord Carlston! Everyone's talking about the two most eligible gentlemen of the season having formed an alliance — and now intending to divide the ladies among themselves."
Alex felt a flash of cold irritation rise in his chest.
The Duke chuckled and replied, "That is utterly untrue."
But naturally, the lords couldn't have cared less.
— "And how is your mother, Young Lord?" one of them added. "A shame she didn't join us this evening. And don't worry, a stumble on the dance floor? Happens to us all! You're young, enjoy the ball!"
Alex replied only to the question about his mother, citing her poor health, and ignored the rest. His expression darkened. Now that he'd been recognized, all hope of staying anonymous was lost.
The lords, well into their wine, kept on talking nonsense. The Duke kept the conversation afloat with tact, while Ophelia deftly supported him — hosting, smiling, leading the banter.
Alex watched the two of them from just outside the moment. They looked like a perfect pair — poised, graceful, comfortable even among such raucous company.
And then, one of the lords burst out:
— "If I may be so bold, Your Grace, you mustn't keep delaying. It's high time you married the lovely Lady Ophelia and ceased deceiving the public. Everyone in this room has seen how warmly you look at each other. Do you agree with me, Young Lord?"
The Duke was clearly taken aback. The bluntness of the suggestion caught him off guard. Ophelia looked equally startled.
— "You're right, of course," the Duke said smoothly. "Lady Ophelia would make the best companion." and then he smiled warmly at her.
It hit Alex like a blade. He bowed out without another word and made his way to the hallway.
The corridor was dimly lit. As soon as the Young Lord found himself alone, with a sudden motion he ripped the hat, wig, and mask from his head and threw them to the floor. His throat clenched, tears spilled before he could stop them. He reached the nearest window, gripping the windowsill, his shoulders heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. The pain overwhelmed him, and he lost control.
"What is wrong with me?!"
He tried to collect himself, tried to steady his breath, but the sobs came anyway.
Suddenly, a voice called from behind him: "Alex!"
The Duke had come after him. But he felt so broken that he had neither the strength nor the will to hide the pain.
The moment Alex faced him, Nathaniel moved forward, placing his hands gently on Alex's forearms, as though in an incomplete attempt to embrace him.
The Duke's face was stunned, his expression etched with concern — he looked so helpless and at a loss. He gently placed a hand on Alex's cheek, guiding his face upward.
— "Alex, what is the matter?" the Duke asked in a voice trembling with worry, "Is it your ankle? You must have injured it dancing. There has been too little time, I should have been more decisive and found another excuse for Ophelia, she doesn't know. And those wretched lords, damn them! Alex, I…"
To the Young Lord, his friend's words sounded like some distant noise.
The glass had overflowed.
Pushing the Duke's hand from his face, Alex hunched over, lightly pounding his fists against the Duke's chest. Nathaniel was startled and slightly pulled his hands back but could not release the poor Alex from his awkward embrace.
Still looking at the floor, Alex, struggling with the endless flow of tears and ragged breath, began to speak without conscious control.
— "I can't do this anymore, it's too much! I am certainly ill, I don't know what's wrong with me. I've lost control, I don't know who I am, I understand nothing. It's beyond me. The moment you came into my life, I lost my sanity! My world turned upside down! When I am alone, I don't sleep or eat, I quarrel with my mother, I become irritable and suspicious! I hate this! You have poisoned my mind!"
Alex straightened a little and raised his face, allowing himself to meet his friend's gaze. At this moment, the Duke's expression twisted with pain. Young Lord's eyes brimmed with tears, his face flushed, his lips swollen from biting them. He went on, as if unable to stop, as if the words had long waited to spill.
— "You are the first thing I think of when I wake, and the last thing that visits me before sleep. I close my eyes and see your ridiculous beautiful face, but I never asked for this! I try desperately, but cannot think of anyone else! I'm like a dog, eager for every opportunity to see your foolish beautiful face in person! And I am sick of every lady at every ball, I am so tired of these games and plays, I feel pain whenever I see you with them! I thought I loved them, but I hate each and every one of them! I'm tired of this pain! I don't know what's happening to me! I…"
The Duke suddenly stepped back for a moment and then kissed Alex with desperate passion. He embraced Alex firmly, one hand threading through his wheat-colored hair, while the other drew the Young Lord's waist nearer.
Alex didn't understand what was happening. He froze in the intensity, then melted into it. He didn't know why, but it felt so right and so long-awaited.
The Duke broke the kiss for a second, pulling back slightly. The moment their lips parted, Alex's body ached with longing for the pleasure he'd just felt. Yes, it was a pleasure. His mind might not have recognised it yet, but his body knew. Surrendering to the wave of sensation, Alex's eyes fluttered open, dazed.
In that instant, the Duke appeared unlike ever before. His eyes were clouded, and those green depths seemed to pierce Alex's soul — seeing every conflicted feeling, yet somehow looking past him, far beyond the present.
Without a word, the Duke kissed Young Lord again — this time with urgency, pressing him against the wall behind.
Alex closed his eyes and fully entrusted himself to the unfamiliar rush of feelings, leaning into Nathan's passionate embrace as though it were the only thing anchoring him to the world.
End of Part One