Winter's Ball

by Giselle Ava

  He smiled warmly and she dodged his eyes.

  “I can see what you’re doing, Lord Desmond Da’vail of Vaul, but I highly suggest you do not pursue me as anything more than another lady of the court, and a potential ally should things suddenly descend into bitter times. I have a rotten soul.”

  “I am inclined to believe that.”

  “And yet you remain...”

  “Your ways are intriguing.”

  “My ways?” She smirked.

  “You were quite cute to my eleven-year-old eyes back then.”

  “Where did it all go wrong?” Sarina sighed tragically.

  “It was only eight years ago, out there in the gardens.”

  “Oh my god. That seems like a lifetime...”

  “Let me get you another drink and we shall continue this conversation.” He swiped their empty glasses off the table and stood. “Would the lady like anything specific?”

  “High Lady will do,” she said.

  Desmond smiled. “High Lady.”

  “Let’s go with something that won’t make me immediately drunk,” she said, letting him be off. She glanced back down at her pocket watch. Eight thirty-eight.

  Once he was out of sight, she got up, still buzzing with what had just happened. She had known Desmond when she was younger. They were both seven when they last met, one year before the night it all changed. One year later, it would all come crashing down and she would never see him again. In all that time she’d known him, and the time in between, she had never thought of him twice. But she couldn’t deny his older, polished charm.

  She felt Sir Tam watching her from afar and she strode up to him. They stood by the unimpeded entryway to the ballroom proper, by a blue lantern.

  “Have you seen Mikka?” she asked.

  “No, I’m afraid not,” Sir Tam said softly.

  She thought about waiting there for Desmond to return, and then thought about what would happen if she snuck off and then met him again while she was sneaking off, and then thought it would just be best if she snuck off but in the completely opposite direction.

  She made sure Desmond was out of sight and then scampered up the staircase back to the second floor balcony, and then out into one of the sitting rooms where people were quietly mingling and serving boys handed out delicious finger food. There was a small crowd within it. Some of them acknowledged her with nods or with a quiet “Lady Mithriv” and sometimes even a “High Lady Mithriv,” which was her official title, but she honestly didn’t care either way. They both meant the same thing: she was the last Mithriv lady in the court.

  She was suddenly bitten by a sting of tension. She promptly forced it out with a long, deep breath. Raised her shoulders and dropped them, letting it all spill out onto the velvet, carpeted floor. She walked into the next room, forcing a smile back upon her face. Her hand reached for the pocket watch but she identified the tendency and stopped herself, instead taking some food from a serving boy.

  “Sir Tam,” she said, turning to face him.

  He was not there, but somebody else was. There among the crowds, having just sat up from one of the seats, was a tall thin man with small circular glasses. No hair, but very good eyebrows, like he had waxed them before arriving. And when he turned his head at a specific angle and you saw what lay behind those glasses, you would see empty eyeholes, fleshy and nondescript. The man did not appear to see her, but then again, he had no eyes. And yet the breath caught in her throat and she froze. Her muscles tightened.

  The passage of time blurred. One moment she was standing inside that room and the next she was back inside the main chamber, the music a slurred melody in the back of her mind, people shapeshifting into inhuman forms around her, their movements trailed by ghost-like images. She’d taken another pill and was leaning up against a mahogany pillar.

  “Is everything all right, Sarina?” Sir Tam’s voice pulled her back into the present moment. The loud voices. The delicate violins, the deep cellos and crystalline piano. Laughter. Smiles. Noblemen flung their dance partners, raised their arms and noblewomen spun underneath them before ending up back in their partner’s arms.

  The crowds parted and there he was.

  “I want you to arrest that man.”

  The words surprised her out of her mouth, the intensity at which they emerged. She continued to watch the man with no eyes, who glided through the crowds, his red nobleman’s uniform brushing up against other nobility. He carried a wine glass and occasionally he sipped from it, despite it being nearly empty.

  “Arrest that man,” she repeated urgently.

  “I’m sorry...” Sir Tam started as he moved towards her and grabbed the hilt of his sword without drawing it. She felt his armour against her side, rough and cold.

  Sarina darted from the spot, grabbing one of the other guards, who looked at her as if just awoken from a slumber. She pointed. “Arrest that man, for god’s sake!” A couple of guests now turned to check who had launched into the first violent yet expected tirade of the night.

  “My lady...” muttered the guard.

  There was a stir in the crowd. The man with no eyes took note and made a sudden dash. Sarina started to chase after him but then stopped. The man with no eyes fell and the crowd spread like ripples made from a rock hitting a deep puddle of blood. He tried to recover but instead was lifted up by Tasha Vasil and thrown into two guards.

  “Incompetent idiots,” Tasha said to them.

  A silence had befallen the great hall. Sir Tam had half-drawn his sword and was hovering close to Sarina. Tasha looked at her expectantly.

  “I want that man sent to the dungeon,” Sarina said with no care for who was watching her, or of the unmistakable quaver in her voice. “Go!” she snapped.

  Sir Tam was the only one who remained by her side. He nervously slid his sword back into its scabbard, the steel rasping against the inside walls.

  Sarina stood there, unable to move, unable to properly process what she had just done, but she knew that it was the right choice. Or was it? There was no way he could be the very same man who had murdered her mother...And yet who else walked around with those hollowed-out eyes, with those glasses, the bald head but with those eyebrows?

  But it seemed impossible...

  Mikka ran up to her, his paws sliding across the floor as he attempted to stop. He looked up at her with wide eyes. “One minute I was gone—” he began.

  “Lock down the whole city,” Sarina said.

  “What?” Mikka reached for her hand but she snatched it away.

  “Escort me to the dungeon so that I may speak to him.”

  Neither Mikka nor Sir Tam said a word in response. Sarina glanced at her pocket watch one more time. It was eight fifty-nine and forty-eight seconds.

  No Eyes

  Book 2 of The Killing Night series

  There is an intruder in Lavus City, a man with no eyes who Sarina remembers from that one night seven years back—the man who murdered her mother. Sarina assembles a council to deal with the sudden turn of events. Meanwhile, Tasha and Alyos search the city.

  Available in the Amazon Kindle store! Click here!

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