The two ended up standing next to the food table while Dowager Marchioness Basileus pulled Sae out to dance. A young man with dark red hair that matched his mask with feathers much resembling a rooster, walked up to them and threw an arm around Irwin like a younger brother.

"Irwin! You didn't tell me you'd be here!” He yelled, smiling widely. A few guests from around them turned at the sound of his voice loudly confirming the identity of the marquess.

"There’s no point in a mask if you’re going to just announce my name, Leon.” Irwin had to crane his neck up to talk to him. It was an odd sight to see since the marquess was already quite tall himself. 

"Like your hair is inconspicuous," the man, Leon, scoffed, ruffling his hair.

A girl in green walked up to Irwin from the other side of the table. "Marquess Basileus, would you care to dance?" She boldly asked.

"No."

The girl looked shocked at his outright rejection and turned to Leon and Aris, hoping either one of them would say something to convince him. When both of them just stood there awkwardly, she flushed a bright pink and ran away. 

“That was so cruel of you Marquess Basileus,” the redhead tutted. “To reject a fair maiden like that-”

“Then you go dance with her,” Irwin retorted, taking a sip from his champagne. 

“I’m afraid my first dance is already promised to the delicious glass of cabernet on that tray over there~” 

A brief silence followed. 

“So, my dear lady,” Leon began, moving to the other side of the marquess and next to Aris. "My name is Leon. I serve under Irwin in the first battalion,” he finished with a bow. 

Aris held her hand out for a customary greeting. “My name is Alin. I came from Dailora with my younger sister.”

“Ah, Dailora, I’ve always wanted to visit.” He took her hand and kissed it. “But my older brother’s always told me I wouldn’t even be smart enough to pass through the border checkpoints.”

She let out a soft giggle. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is,” Irwin interrupted, swirling his champagne glass. This earned a glare from the red-haired man. 

Leon turned his attention to the marquess. He put both his hands on the latter’s shoulders and declared, “I’ll need your presence for a little while, Your Grace. My father and brother would like your input on a very serious matter.” 

Irwin straightened up and put his glass on a passing waiter holding a tray. He snuck a glance at Aris as if asking for her permission, which she nodded to, and turned around. “Lead the way.” 

And here she was, standing at the food table by herself. Since Sae was still busy with the dowager marchioness, she decided it was time to start her part of the plan. Scanning the sea of nobles, she tried to look for anyone that matched any of the profiles she had spent so much time studying. After a few difficult attempts, she was about to move from her spot when a fox-faced man appeared in front of her. His eyes stared into hers expectantly. 

She blinked a few times. 

“Hello…” she greeted hesitantly. “Can I help you?”

The fox-man suddenly rounded the table and took place next to her. Despite the mask, she could tell upon closer inspection that he was at least ten years older than her. 

“Oh beautiful lady–” he held his hand out. “–would I do you the honor of dancing with me?”

Wait, what? Aris’s eyes squinted slightly in confusion. Would I do him the honor of dancing with him? He’s got a bigger ego than Irwin...

“I… I r-really…” She honestly didn’t know how to respond. “My first dance is unfortunately already spoken for.”

As well as my second. And third. And fourth. Her mind said back to her. 

“Well, then your second!” He declared persistently, eyes trailing dangerously lower down her neckline. 

Out of all her lessons with Countess Holden, how to elegantly slap someone across the face was not one of them. 

“That’s taken for, as well,” a voice spoke up from behind Aris. 

One glance at the man in a beak mask would instantly reveal who was under it, as long as you were Aris. Ancient doctors would often wear these types of masks to prevent catching their patients’ illnesses. A very relevant fact that was only useful to her. She turned back around to face the fox-man, not wanting to look Lincoln in the eyes just yet. 

“Who might you-?” The fox-man asked, tone wary. 

“You dare make eye contact with Count Yosannon!” Lincoln screeched rather dramatically. “Just wait until this party is over, Viscount, and I’ll have your head.”

“Yosannon-?”

“Silence!” 

Aris wasn’t sure if it was the less-than-legitimate threat that Lincoln had just issued, or just how many glances his outburst was drawing, but the fox-man turned and walked away quickly. 

“Dear Zephyria, I hope there’s not actually a count by that name,” Lincoln sighed.

This was when she turned around to get a better look at him. He was wearing a simple suit with a silver lapel chain connected to a brooch of the von Sane family crest. Despite the mask that covered everything above his neck, she still noticed the stray strands of hair standing up on his head. He continued to mumble about how he had been hiding from the archduke since they arrived. 

She let out a soft scoff. “Do you really think you can hide from anyone wearing a mask like that?” 

Lincoln turned and looked at her, or at least she thought he was. “I thought it would make people not want to talk to me.” 

“You thought correctly, Doctor.” 

“Shall we?” He held an arm out to her. She looked at it and then back up at him doubtfully.

“I’m afraid that man will come back if we don’t follow through with our lie.” 

She nodded and took his arm. He led her out to the dance floor where he held her hand in his and laid his other one on her waist. 

“Ara-”

A step on his foot. “Alin.”

“A-Alin,” he corrected, tasting the name on his tongue. “It seems we both had secrets we didn’t tell each other.”

Aris wished she could tell him everything right now, but they weren’t alone. And no matter how loud the guests or music were, there were always prying eyes and ears. 

“What other secrets are you keeping? You didn’t tell me you were a noble’s son. An archduke at that,” she retorted. “I’d say that me being from Dailora is much less interesting.”

He attempted to spin her, but only ended up stepping on her foot. Grumbling to himself, he pulled her closer and whispered.

“And you continue to lie.” 

Damn, she cursed in her head. 

Of course, the story about being a visiting scholar from Dailora wouldn’t work. She and Lincoln had lived in the same town and seen each other every day for the past nine years. 

Aris regained her composure and squeezed his hand tighter involuntarily. “And you continue to dodge the question.” 

The sound of fanfare cut off what Lincoln was going to say and sent him into a slight frenzy. He stiffened up and pulled Aris in front of him, an old habit they had developed whenever someone showed up in his old office. It wasn’t meant to be effective, since her smaller height didn’t hide much of his body. 

“The Pride of the Kingdom, His Majesty King Jeromir Taile la Pyrea!”

A man in his early forties wearing a red cape lined with fur entered with a crown on his head. To his left, a woman in a ruby-filled matching crown stood similarly. They both smiled widely under their golden masks and waved at the guests below.

“The Jewel of the Kingdom, Her Majesty Queen Kibiella Ludovica la Pyrea!”

Rounds of applause came after the second announcement as the king and queen waved around the ballroom. It was lucky everyone else was looking up and Lincoln was behind her, because no one would see the look on Aris’s face right now. 

The king waited for the shouting and clapping to subside before beginning his speech. 

“Thank you ladies and gentlemen for taking the time out of your busy days to join me and the queen in this joyous occasion. It is not every day that an old man like me is able to say these words with such pride–” a chuckle. “–but I’m sure you don’t want to hear me rambling on. It is time to get to the main show of the night; the real reason I have gathered such fine people here tonight.” 

“What a lucky girl Lady Penelope is!” a high-pitched voice whispered from somewhere around her. 

Penelope? Aris thought. Is that who the crown prince is marrying?

The crowd waited in anticipation. 

“I wish the people a grand harvest this year! May Zephyria bless the changing of the seasons!” 

It was physically impossible for the crowd to remain completely silent. While most people were stunned silent, others couldn’t help but let out a gasp at the king’s implication. Every noble worth their reputation was in attendance expecting to hear the official announcement of their new crown princess. How sly of the royal family. The engagement party had never actually been marketed as such, just a ‘celebration of a lifetime’ with a ‘special announcement.’ 

The sound of glass shattering caught everyone’s attention, even the king and queen. Near one of the marble pillars at the base of the stairs was a family of three. The man was staring boldly up at the king with a glare that could kill, hand bloody. The woman next to him, most likely his wife, was fretting over her injured husband as she tried to call for help. Behind them was a girl seemingly around her age with both hands covering her mouth, the mask doing nothing to hide her shock. 

Ah, the ex-fiancée, Aris noted. 

As the man regained his composure, he followed one of the waiters out of the ballroom with his wife and daughter trailing quickly behind. 

Whoever started the clapping after the doors closed sure had some courage. The rest of the guests followed suit, pretending like the king’s announcement was the thing they had been waiting for all night. While King Jeromir had his eyes slightly narrowed, he seemed to revel in the applause like he hadn’t expected anything else. 

“I thank you, people of Vemalla. It has been my pleasure being your king,” he continued. “Please, enjoy the night’s festivities. I assure you the fireworks are something you won’t forget.”  

There was one last round of applause as the king and queen retreated from the balcony, leaving the rumors to circulate around high society at the scene that just unfolded. At some point during the announcement and the ex-fiancée’s exit, Lincoln had disappeared from behind Aris and managed to find a better hiding spot. She tried to find Irwin and Leon in the crowd but even with silver and red hair, she couldn’t get a glimpse of them. That’s when someone grabbed her by the upper arm.

“Miss Alin!”

Aris turned to the owner of the hand and came face to face with a bedazzled feline mask. 

“How nice to see you here!” 

She didn’t need to see her face to know who the voice belonged to. 

“Countess Holden,” Aris curtseyed slightly. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

The countess waved off her compliment and pulled her closer as she walked back to her group. “Come, come, I must introduce you,” she insisted. “After all, I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done.”

As they arrived in front of a group of ladies, the conversation amongst themselves stopped. There were three ladies: one wearing a dress shaped suspiciously like an orange, the second wearing a matching beret and mask, and the third one in an all-black attire.   

“Miss Alin, this is Viscountess Marjovik.” She pointed to the orange-looking lady, who waved her hand that was holding a scone.

“Duchess Sylvran.” The woman in the beret greeted her with a nod.

“And this–” the countess moved to wrap her hands around the last young lady’s shoulders. “–is my darling daughter, Zira.”

Lady Zira Holden was more or less cold towards Aris. She put her hand out and waited for Aris’s move. The latter took her hand and gave it a firm shake. The young lady’s face revealed nothing about her first impressions of Aris. While her skin tone was a shade lighter than her mother’s, her eyes were the same saturated blue. The countess’s voice tore her eyes away from her daughter’s.

“I was just telling everyone how gifted you are,” the countess gushed. “Not to mention so kind and comforting.” 

Aris put on her best ladylike smile. “Oh, my Lady, you flatter me too much. I was only doing what anyone would do.” 

Duchess Sylvran didn’t wait to hear the countess’s response before speaking up. “Miss Alin, might I inquire as to where you are from?”

“Of course, Your Grace. I come from Dailora, the country of scholars. I’m here on leave from my normal studies with my sister to conduct research for my thesis.”

“Am I correct to assume you currently reside with Marquess Basileus?”

Ah, so that’s why the countess dragged me over here, Aris internally rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Your Grace. Marquess Basileus has been gracious enough to host my sister and I during our stay,” she confirmed. “Like the close friend that he is… and Dowager Marchioness Basileus has been kind enough to sponsor my studies as well.” 

The two older ladies nodded in realization. 

“Oh, Duchess Sylvran, enough with the formal stuff,” Viscountess Marjovik interjected. “Are we going to ignore the fact that poor Lady Onéfry was just publicly humiliated like that?”

Duchess Sylvran rolled her eyes and took a sip of wine. Countess Holden withdrew her hands from her daughter’s shoulders and threw them up in exasperation. 

“I told you there had been rumors the king was going to break off their engagement,” the countess insisted. “It didn’t matter how much the prince loved Lady Penelope, House Onéfry doesn’t have much to contribute to the Crown. The only thing the count had to sell was his daughter’s face.”  

“Please, Countess Holden,” Viscountess Marjovik snorted. “We all know it goes deeper than that. Don’t you remember that issue from a few years ago?”

“What issue?” Aris interrupted.

Viscountess Marjovik looked at her with eyes of slight pity. “Oh, that’s right, Miss Alin, you wouldn’t know. Something horrendous happened three years ago.” 

She put her hand over her mouth as if what she said was taboo. “I really shouldn’t say, but… oh dear, well-”

“Penelope tried to kill Prince Nyros.”