Reflection: The Stranger in the Mirror

by Rachel R. Smith

  In past years, Nerissa had forced herself to smile as she descended the stairs a few steps behind her parents. Tonight, however, her lips were curved upwards into a genuine smile in anticipation of the festivities to come. She held her chin high as she surveyed the opulent surroundings.

  The preparations of the past two days had transformed the hall into a glittering spectacle. The two massive chandeliers that normally went unused were now adorned with hundreds of glow lamps. They cast soft rays of light around the room through their beveled glass panes. Some of the light was reflected from the panes of glass in the tall windows that stretched from the floor to the vaulted ceiling. More lamps hung from ironwork sconces mounted to the wine-red wall. Pairs of tall stone columns lined the path from the staircase to the ornate double doors on the opposite side of the hall.

  Nerissa joined her parents at the foot of the stairs where they were already engaged in conversation with a man dressed in a dizzying costume entirely composed of tiny black and white checkers. Beside him stood a young woman about Nerissa's age wearing an outfit even more garish than her companion. It was possibly the most scandalous outfit she had ever seen. The woman's dress was composed of nothing but layers of peacock feathers! The skirt was shockingly short, and the neckline plunged deeply enough to reveal an immodest amount of cleavage. Just looking at her made Nerissa feel embarrassed and, if she were totally honest, a tiny bit envious. The woman’s mask, ironically, covered every inch of her face except her eyes and lips. Footlong feathers extended ostentatiously above her head and out to each side.

  What designer would ever have made such an audacious outfit? Nerissa wondered.

  "Nerissa, this is Governor Akkub of the city of Silvus and his daughter Darci," Rica said. Her mother’s countenance was completely unruffled as if she were oblivious to the pair’s obnoxious outfits. Nerissa had not yet mastered that level of diplomacy. She wasn’t sure that she ever would.

  "Welcome, Akkub and Darci," Nerissa said, focused on keeping her tone neutral. Nerissa concentrated on looking directly into Akkub's eyes as she spoke, fearing that she might become dizzy if she looked at his eye-wrenching checkered mask for too long. She turned to Darci and smiled graciously, only to receive an unctuous smirk in return. Nerissa found herself taking an immediate dislike to the feathery hussy.

  Much to Nerissa’s relief, the orchestra conductor announced the beginning of the first dance of the evening. The first dance traditionally served as an ice breaker. The music was fast paced and the dance steps involved switching partners frequently. The idea was to put each person in contact with many new faces. There would be just enough time to dance a few steps together and share a few brief words. It was the perfect opening to make an escape from Akkub and Darci without seeming rude.

  Akkub held out his arm. "Would you like to dance, Heiress?"

  Nerissa accepted his arm, and they stepped into the forming circle of dancers.

  "Silvus is the region immediately south of Rhea, if I am not mistaken, which means that you have traveled quite a distance to attend tonight," she said as the dance began. She had barely finished her sentence when her foot was crunched beneath one of Akkub's missteps. With every passing moment, she liked the governor of Silvus and his daughter less and less.

  "I would not miss such an exciting night for anything, Heiress," he replied smoothly. The words themselves were innocuous, but Nerissa had the distinct impression that there was something else implied in them. Whatever opportunity she had to elucidate their deeper meaning though, was lost as she was twirled away into the arms of her next masked partner.

  The music continued as she danced from one partner to the next. She twirled between faces of feathers and rhinestones, dogs, more birds than she could count, bears, and even a fox. Gradually, the multitude of smiling masks blurred together. Just as she was beginning to feel winded, the song ended and the musicians transitioned to something softer and blissfully slower. There was little time to rest though. Nerissa had barely stepped away from her last partner when a swarm of eligible bachelors materialized by her side. Normally, she would have strategically turned away most in an attempt to avoid being subjected to their fawning and superficial praise. Tonight, she gladly accepted all of the invitations since she knew that she would not be fulfilling the vast majority of them. By the time the dance book had circulated to each young nobleman in the group, there was not a single spot left. It seemed that the Heiress was expected to dance non-stop the entire evening.

  Time passed by swiftly, song after song, partner after partner, making each passing second more precious than the last. Nerissa flipped through the pages of her dance book and discovered that the night wasn't even halfway through.

  One more dance, and I will be free, she thought as her next partner approached.

  "My dearest fiancée, you look ravishing tonight," the Dalmatian gushed as their hands met.

  Nerissa's smile eroded as she realized who it was behind the mask. Dallin was the son of her mother's dearest friend, so they had spent many summer afternoons together as children. At the tender age of seven, Nerissa had made the unfortunate mistake of promising to marry him. A promise he had apparently taken to heart. He was also not about to let her forget it, despite her protests that no rational person would consider promises made at age seven to be binding. In her opinion, her pseudo-fiancé was potentially more obnoxious than Darci’s and Akkub’s costumes.

  "I am not your fiancée, Dallin," she said, straining to keep her voice pleasant. Her father had always said that persistence and tenacity were traits to be admired in a person, but Nerissa was pretty sure that Dallin was an exception to this rule.

  "There’s no need to be coy with me, darling," he gushed with a wink. "You recognized me right away. That proves we have a special kind of bond."

  "Well, there is no one else quite like you." Did he really think anyone else would have the audacity to refer to her as their future wife?

  "So you finally admit that you hold me in special regard?" His voice held such earnest hunger that it sent chills crawling down Nerissa's spine.

  "I stated a fact, nothing more and nothing less. I am not going to marry you, Dallin. We are only friends, in case you've forgotten. And we’ll be less than that if you continue making such absurd statements," she replied. Nerissa was reaching the limits of her tolerance, yet Dallin seemed blinded by his infatuation. It was time to make an escape before she lost her temper.

  "You'll see someday that I'm the ideal man for you. We are a perfect match! We love so many of the same things: roses, archery..." He paused, straining to think of more of their allegedly numerous common interests.

  "Yes, we have so many things in common," she said dryly. An image of Dallin serving as an archery target and human pincushion crept unbidden into her mind. “That isn't such a bad idea." Nerissa was so wrapped in her momentary fantasy that she didn't realize she had spoken the last bit out loud until it was too late. Biting her bottom lip, she prepared herself for the worst.

  "I knew there was hope! I will let nothing come between us, Nerissa!" Dallin’s exclamations continued on. He was probably planning their wedding and choosing the names of their children, but Nerissa was only vaguely aware of his babbling. She had just spotted a chance to escape. Darci was heading right toward them. As far as Nerissa was concerned, there wasn’t a more perfect person she could pair with Dallin.

  She wrenched her hand from his grip and waved to Darci. "Darci, there is someone here you simply must meet!"

  Darci smiled broadly as she approached. The feathers protruding from her mask, along with various other “bits” of her, bounced with each step. After quickly introducing the two, Nerissa excused herself under the pretense of needing a bit of air. Not wanting to waste another precious moment, she approached one of the footmen standing attentively at the bottom of the staircase. She handed him the note she had written earlier and instructed him to deliver it to her mother as soon as possible. Nerissa was already up the stairs
and halfway to her room before the footman had disappeared into the crowd.

  She dashed down the empty corridor without breaking stride, batting away the banners that undulated in the constant breeze. She did not pause until the bedroom door was closed and barred behind her. Leaning against it briefly to catch her breath, Nerissa relished the feeling of coolness on her back imparted by the door. The great hall was a broiling maelstrom of movement and sound compared to the quiet stillness of her room.

  The wardrobe doors rattled as she flung them open with unbridled excitement. The hook on which her second costume hung was so far inside the massive wardrobe that Nerissa practically had to climb into the closet to reach it. After finally emerging with her treasure in hand, she untied the protective cloth bag with a triumphant grin.

  She touched the soft fabric of the feathered dress affectionately. In the past, the masquerade had been a magical night filled with masked faces, fantastical costumes, and glittering lights. Anything seemed possible, and even the most mundane became surreal. Since her acceptance as Heiress, it had turned into yet another obligation to be fulfilled. This night would finally be different though. Thanks to this costume, tonight she would finally be able to enjoy the masquerade as she had before. It seemed ironic that she could only truly be herself when she was pretending to be someone else.

  Wriggling out of her white dress and into the orange on her own was no small feat, but Nerissa managed it without ruffling too many feathers. The dress itself was even more beautiful on her than it was on the hanger. The fabric floated down to the floor in elegant orange folds. The skirt of the dress divided into two crisscrossing layers above her knees, leaving her bare lower legs visible among the swirling sunset-colored layers. The back of the dress was accented with feathers, extending from either side like a pair of wings. Her earlier dress had been embroidered with the image of the mythical phoenix, but this dress truly made her one. She momentarily turned away from the mirror in order to fetch the boxes containing her shoes and the mask from the wardrobe. She set the boxes on the vanity and removed the shoes from the top one. She slipped them onto her feet and wound the long ribbons up her leg before tying them off in a long-tailed bow just below her knee. The backs of the shoes were also adorned with feathers to match the dress. She inspected herself in the mirror and grinned with satisfaction.

  Nerissa's grin widened as she hastened to retrieve the tiny barrettes from the window sill where she had left them that afternoon. She noticed that the skirt flowed back from her feet as she walked. Dancing would truly be enjoyable without constantly having to worry about tripping over the hem. Grabbing the box of barrettes, she twirled around, spinning and swaying back to the vanity table. She wasn't acting like a giddy little girl she told herself. It was merely a warm up for the night ahead.

  After plucking the phoenix ring from her finger, she dropped it into one of the drawers. Locks of golden-brown hair tumbled down her back as she removed the beaded net, and Nerissa noted with great relief that the spiral curls from earlier had indeed held. The ringlets cascaded freely as she shook her head and tousled the curls with her fingers. She pinned her hair back from her face and fastened the remaining barrettes randomly throughout the rest of the unrestrained locks.

  One final touch remained before she could return to the festivities, and Nerissa eagerly pried away the top of the box containing it. The mask was covered with feathers that had been dyed the same sunset color as her dress. After slipping the curved stems of the mask behind her ears like she would a pair of glasses, she returned to the full-length mirror. The edges of the mask were decorated with elegant gold scrollwork, and rhinestones accented the eyes. Feathers fanned out above the top of the mask on either side, mirroring the wings on the back of her dress. It was not unlike Darci's mask, but the look was elegant instead of gaudy. She pulled free an errant strand of hair that had become tangled among the feathers of her mask and smiled with contentment.

  Turning from the mirror, she stuffed the boxes and dress bag back into the wardrobe. Moving to the bed, she mussed the blankets and shoved pillows beneath them to give the appearance that it was occupied. If anyone checked in on her later, they would assume that she was asleep. She shuttered the glow lamps, except for one which she carried with her out to the balcony. Once outside, that lamp was shuttered too and left on the stone floor.

  Nerissa scanned the gardens to make sure she would not be seen. The balcony was on the far side of the gardens from the party, so no one was around. She clambered down the rickety trellis, silently praying that it would hold and wary of the thorny vines merely fractions of an inch away from snagging the delicate fabric. Somehow she reached the bottom with both dress and skin unscathed—and the trellis still intact. It was a wonder on all accounts. Treading carefully across the stepping stone path, she peeked into each window she passed with breathless excitement. Still, despite her enthusiasm, she hesitated upon reaching the tall doors. This was the moment of truth. Would she be recognized in spite of all her efforts? If so, she would lose her one opportunity for a night of freedom and end up having to explain her behavior to her parents. Worse still, what if she was completely ignored? It would prove that she was only noticed by people because she was the Heiress. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the door open and submitted herself to the clamor inside.

  She stopped again in the doorway. No one turned or looked as she entered which was an unusual occurrence. Nerissa had noticed the decorations before, but it wasn't until now that she realized exactly how beautiful the surroundings were. There were so many details she had overlooked, such as the expansive carpet she now stood upon. It was plush and crimson-colored, trimmed in gold thread. So beautiful, but trod upon by hundreds of feet with little notice or appreciation. Candles inside tall marble vases were scattered throughout the room to provide extra illumination. The vases were elaborately decorated on the outside with garlands of sparkling glass beads and red roses. Nerissa had grown the roses herself in the greenhouse specifically for this occasion. She wondered if anyone else had even noticed, or if they were taken for granted as well. Beauty was expected here, after all, rendering anything less unacceptable.

  With no obvious place to go, Nerissa made her way to the sprawling tables laden with food. People milled around the area, talking and laughing while holding cups of wine or cider in their hands. Some had a rosy blush to their cheeks. It seemed that Pan was not the only one who had enjoyed the spirits a bit too much tonight. Nerissa was hovering near the dessert tables, having just finished eating one of Pan's strawberry tarts, when a young man suddenly grabbed her free hand.

  "Would you care for a dance, my lady?" The Dalmatian asked, sweeping into an impossibly low bow. "Or has your book already been filled for the evening?"

  "I-I-I," she stammered. Of all the bad luck, it seemed Dallin could find her on instinct alone. "I arrived a few minutes ago." It was all she could think to say.

  "Don't worry, it is but one dance, and I'm certain that my fiancée wouldn't mind. She is not the sort of woman to get jealous, however hard I try." He winked playfully as if his fiancée’s lack of jealousy was a measure of how secure their relationship was. Could he truly be so blind to the fact that she wanted him to turn his tender attentions toward someone else?

  Unfortunately, in this case, the “someone else” he had selected was none other than his so-called fiancée in disguise. Nerissa said nothing. She simply couldn't find the words. She was beginning to fear that they truly did have a special connection, albeit one-sided. It was a decidedly unpleasant thought.

  “Please don't be overwhelmed because I am the future Bond of Chiyo. I know it may be intimidating for a lesser noble like you to dance with someone like me." He prattled on, regaling her with tales of his future title and glory, but she had stopped listening.

  Nerissa was horrified to see this side of Dallin. If he acted this way toward everyone, the whole capital must believe they were engaged! The temptation to set him straight was rapidly begin
ning to rival her desire to remain anonymous.

  "Pardon me, but may I cut in?" asked a young man from behind a hawk mask. "I simply cannot wait another moment before I share a dance with this exquisite beauty.” Without waiting for an answer, he smoothly slid between Nerissa and Dallin, taking her hand and steering her deeper into the crowd. Dallin was left behind, slack-jawed, still trying to figure out what had just happened.

  "You had the look of a woman in need of rescue," the hawk said, looking down at her with mischief sparkling in his lazuline eyes.

  Nerissa remained silent, still taking in this stranger. She didn't remember seeing anyone in such a mask earlier in the evening. He certainly had not been one of the men to request a dance from her.

  "At least, it appeared like you wanted to get his paws off of you. Was I wrong?" His voice was warm and sounded sincere, but his eyes still had that twinkle. "If I'm mistaken, I will gladly escort you back and make my apologies."

  "No!" she exclaimed. That had come out more forcefully than she had intended. "I mean, thank you for rescuing me, as you described it." Nerissa couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something about him she liked. Maybe it was those eyes.

  "I'm not sure that I am any safer in your clutches though,” she teased.

  He wrapped his arm a bit tighter around her waist as they twirled in step with the music. Those blue eyes now were filled with both mischief and mirth. "Yes, well, birds of a feather should stick together," he quipped. "Besides, it's sort of my job."

  "Are you making fun of my costume?" Nerissa pursed her lips together in mock anger.

  "Not at all. You, my lady, are the most remarkable creature here," he crooned.

  "You certainly know how to lay the charm on thick, don't you?" Nerissa grinned and changed the subject. "I don't think we've met before."

  "Well, that would be a difficult thing to say for certain, considering that we are both in disguise," he replied soberly. "In truth, I’m sure we have never met before. I would never forget those eyes of yours."