Masquerade Ball: The Deepening Night
Around the imperial palace, countless carriages were ascending the hill. The peculiar thing was that none of them bore the crests representing their families. And Ferzen, blended seamlessly among them, alighted gracefully when the carriage halted...
Creak.
He opened the door demurely, then stepped into the banquet hall where bright lights mingled in a dazzling array.
“……”
It was crowded. Yet because everyone wore masks, the discomfort felt comparatively minimal.
Screech.
Plenty of people wheeled about in chairs. And with Ferzen's keen eyes, he spotted here and there the awkward gaits of those disguising even their gender.
There seemed to be no shortage of others who, like him, had altered their appearance to that of young children.
The places drawing the biggest crowds were around the First Imperial Prince and the Second Imperial Prince.
“……”
Sweeping his gaze over the surroundings, Ferzen picked up a glass of poured wine and moved at a leisurely pace.
'Where could she be...'
After wetting his throat with the wine in his glass, Ferzen closely observed those seated in wheelchairs.
Compared to disguises that altered gender, it was harder to spot awkwardness, but not impossible.
From the start, one couldn't pinpoint identities solely from behavioral discrepancies, so the subjects themselves didn't pay much heed either.
Thanks to that, unnatural points stood out clearly after prolonged observation, but narrowing it down further with just this was a stretch.
Clink.
He set down the empty glass and turned on his heel.
Frankly speaking, Ferzen considered the chance of Lizzy being here slim.
If she attended at all, her brother Roer would handle it.
'Still...'
If he didn't rule out even that faint possibility, the most reliable and straightforward way to confirm her presence was something else entirely.
Clack.
Ferzen's advancing steps halted.
Before him stood the imperial orchestra, gracefully performing to liven up the revelry.
The current piece was nearing its end, so Ferzen waited patiently behind the conductor.
As the music concluded, he slipped into the brief interlude and spoke in a boyish voice.
“I have a song I'd like to hear. Would it be alright to request it?”
“Ah... Of course.”
“Then, please play Blessing of the Night.”
“It's quite an old piece.”
“And yet it still enjoys much love.”
“Understood.”
After a moment to catch his breath, the conductor raised his baton.
Blessing of the Night was a foundational piece that any musician worth their salt could play without sheet music.
As the familiar yet nostalgic melody from that day unfurled in splendor, Ferzen turned his head.
Through extended scrutiny, he'd narrowed it down to three candidates.
First...
Crash—!
“……”
Amid the lavish music, the sharp sound of shattering crystal rang out clearly.
No need to observe each one's reaction individually.
Ferzen spotted the blue-haired woman trembling near the First Imperial Prince in the distance and twisted his lips into a smirk.
She, masked as a wolf, turned her head toward the imperial orchestra.
Their eyes met for the briefest instant during that motion, but the fleeting moment passed naturally, without incident.
Yes, the wolf in lamb's clothing had recognized its prey.
But the lamb in wolf's clothing had failed to perceive the predator that sought to devour her.
'Lizzy. Do you know this?'
Fear and dread, unless overcome...
'Will always lurk at your side, following you.'
With that, Ferzen slowly advanced.
Gently.
Like treading on thin ice.
Silently.
* * * * *
“Ha... Hic...”
Clutching her chest against the crushing pain in her heart, Lizzy fled to the terrace.
The maid pushing her wheelchair gazed at her with concern, but Lizzy, sweat streaming down her face, squeezed her eyes shut without even wiping it away.
Even on the terrace, the music drifted faintly.
Blessing of the Night was a hugely popular piece with deep history, but as trends shifted with the times, it had lately been rarely performed at banquets.
Coldly put, it was simply outdated.
“Miss...”
“I-It's... f-fine... Could you... g-get me some... c-cold water...”
“Yes, miss.”
Forcibly calming her trembling body's spasms, Lizzy took deep breaths repeatedly.
Fortunately, the piece soon ended, and her convulsing body rapidly regained stability.
In that calm, Lizzy wiped the sweat beading at her chin with a handkerchief, her fingertips still quivering.
Creak.
Then came the sound of the door opening.
“Libella...”
Calling her maid's name, Lizzy pressed her forehead and extended her hand—
Meaning to receive the glass of ice-cold water.
But instead...
Smack.
“...!”
What returned was the soft touch of lips.
Startled, Lizzy whipped her head to the side.
There stood a boy in pristine white attire, masked as a lamb.
“Did I offend?”
“Y-You...”
Steadying her pounding heart, Lizzy subtly withdrew her hand.
“Such a beautiful hand.”
But he—no, the boy—gently grasped her other hand and, bowing once more, bestowed another kiss.
“...Wearing a lamb's mask, yet your actions are wolfishly brazen.”
Lizzy let out a wry chuckle.
In truth, this masquerade doubled as a venue to undermine their political foes and vent raw dissatisfaction at the princes they backed.
Though a select few used it to indulge hidden desires.
“Did I, alone on the terrace, look that easy to devour?”
“A misunderstanding. I simply dislike that outdated tune and stepped out briefly.”
A manner of speech ill-suited to his youthful guise.
Was this what they meant by an old soul in a young body?
Creak.
As her tension eased, the maid entered.
Receiving the glass of ice-cold water from her, Lizzy quietly ordered her to stand by the door rather than at her side.
Ferzen, a faint smile playing on his lips, spoke up.
“Gremory Eldin Ishtar Elmark, I presume.”
“……”
Lizzy flinched at Ferzen's words.
“...You have sharp eyes.”
“So I'm often told. Cloaking yourself as the Empress of the Elmark Empire and sitting in a wheelchair—quite the satirical touch. Amusing.”
At the boy's—Ferzen's—words, Lizzy awkwardly curled her lips.
In truth, there'd been no satirical intent.
Simply, the strongest woman she'd ever witnessed had been...
The Empress of Elmark.
Yes, Lizzy had merely craved a sturdy shell.
Lest Ferzen appear at this banquet, she lacked the courage to face him in her true form.
“……”
“……”
A heavy silence lingered.
Ferzen gazed up at Lizzy wordlessly, then shifted his eyes to the beautiful night sky.
“An uncomfortable silence.”
“……”
“I lack confidence in smoothly conversing with a lady, so won't you toss me a topic?”
“Didn't you say you just stepped out because you disliked that outdated music...”
“Children are fickle by nature, after all.”
Gazing down at Ferzen—who was hitting on her in that boyish voice—Lizzy burst into laughter.
“Fine. Then... tell me your thoughts on the current political landscape.”
The political situation, no less.
A rather thorny request.
For Ferzen had interpreted the landscape based on facts separately gleaned from the Second Imperial Prince.
But reconstructing and voicing it anew, excluding that, was no great feat, so he modulated his voice and replied.
“If asked which way the scales tip, it would have to be toward the Second Imperial Prince.”
“And the... r-reason?”
“You know it already. It's something everyone senses in the shadows.”
“……”
“Exactly. But with Brutein's backing, doesn't that leave no room for others to shine? Hence the possibility of bedding the enemy of one's enemy...”
Lizzy's words drew a laugh from Ferzen.
And at his laughter, she faltered, unable to finish her thought.
“Your view isn't wrong. Those eager to prove themselves as loyal hounds will force open a place if none exists.”
“……”
“However, if no reward awaits the one who seizes that spot, there's little reason to bother.”
“……”
“Everyone knows it. No matter what Ruerg—bolstered by Brutein's support from the Robelium Kingdom—does, the imperial family won't offer fair recompense.”
From the outset, Brutein's bloodline sought no such reward.
Moreover, this time they even had ample justification for atoning past disgrace.
Thus, that truth brought not unease to the other hounds, but comfort and fierce unity.
That the Second Imperial Prince they backed now stood one step ahead of the First.
Why refuse such fortune?
“But the Count of Ruerg... married an Alfred woman this time. Born of Brutein's blood, yet claiming an Alfred bride—doesn't that mark the start of his rapacious ambition?”
On that point, even Ferzen had no ready retort.
It wasn't an unreasonable interpretation.
Still...
“If he truly harbored ambition, would he covet a mere baronial seat in the remote Ruerg?”
“……”
“Bricks atop a sandcastle sink it. Puzzling, yes—but that's why others don't question it.”
“Is that... really why...”
“……”
“Or are they simply clinging to the prejudice that stems solely from his Brutein blood?”
Lizzy clenched her fist on the armrest.
Watching her, Ferzen spoke.
“Is that wrong?”
“……”
“Claiming he might harbor greedy, ugly depths, and decrying faith in his overt exterior... It sounds rational, yet it isn't.”
“Where does it fall short?”
“Do people wander the streets naked?”
“……”
“Everyone wears clothes. And they pay dearly for splendid, beautiful ones.”
“……”
“That's human nature. If you deny it, I dare ask: Doesn't your interior wear an exterior too?”
At Ferzen's words—cloaked as a lamb—Lizzy bit her lip.
She couldn't refute it.
Even now, she...
Donned the Empress's shell.
Yearning for a self unswayed by any storm.
“Weren't you trying to win my favor? Spewing only words I don't want to hear...”
Adjusting her wolf mask slightly, Lizzy lowered her head to meet Ferzen's gaze.
“Truly... such a devourable little lamb.”
Her slender fingertips brushed his cheek.
How could she, blind to the wolf hidden behind soft lamb's wool, seem so innocently naive?
Then again, night's shadows lay thick.
Fail to pierce the essence, and even fetid rot tastes sweet.
'Lizzy.'
Human eyes are more foolish, more obtuse than one thinks.
With that unheeded inner counsel and a veiled sneer, Ferzen quietly inhaled the scent from her fingertips.
A lamb's fragrance, ill-suited to a wolf.
Utterly sweet.