Giddy thrill fluttered through Alaric's chest as he sifted through the crowd, completely unrecognized. 

   His eighteenth birthday celebration- a masquerade ball- was the perfect opportunity to simulate normalcy. Here, he walked within the sea of people, the rush of conversation and the stir of dancing couples welcoming him in. Treating him as an insider. 

   And so, he pushed past countless wealthy men and women dressed for the ball in the vast, elaborate room with an old masquerade mask and long hair obscuring his pointed ears and identity from the world.

   As couples danced and friends chatted, he couldn't shake the feeling of sticking out- this was the first time he'd ever truly participated in a social event of any kind, to be fair. He stood to the side, arms around his middle, until he went and found solace in a breezeway nearby. His shoulders relaxed once he was alone, and he realized he had been clenching his jaw. 

   It was quite cool outside- it was mid-November, after all. As he leaned against a pillar, pulling his mask down to his chin to draw in a deep breath, the pink and orange sky seemed to smile down at him. Seemed to watch over him carefully. 

   He shivered when a breeze crawled up the two vertical slits across the back of his clothes, over his upper back. They were meant for when his wings would form, when the Divine would give their nod for him to find a woman to marry and produce an heir. 

   Only, they'd already formed three months ago. He just bound them to his torso with a tight cloth for now. 

   He flinched when he heard muffled footsteps past a corner. He quickly tugged the mask back on just before a stranger approached him, and he made the mental note to be more aware of people rounding corners. 

   A young woman his age seemed to have materialized behind him by the time he turned around. The dress she wore had a laced stay, her skirt a muted thulian pink. There were ribbons and bows all over her dress- one across her chest, several on her long, layered skirt, one on each bishop sleeve, and one tying up her hair. He nearly smiled at the sight, and their eyes met. She grinned. 

   "Nice night, isn't it?" she remarked, diverging from the path of her stroll as she watched the sky beside him. Something about her air, or perhaps her fashion choices was familiar, as if she was a character in an old, forgotten fable. 

   "S'pose it is," replied Alaric, slowly, smoothing down his hair over his ears. "Did you need something, miss?" He offered past a stammer. Now, why would you say that?

   Growing up, he had been taught how to feign confidence. Keep a tall posture, plastic smiles, a steady voice- he already knew it all. Acting within a crowd, however- face to face- was entirely different. His stomach twisted. 

   "Not really," she replied, slowly, "I'm just not a fan of crowds. But then, I saw you just now, and..." She toyed with the ribbon across her chest, and Alaric stiffened. 

   "Unless you don't want me here," she rushed to add. "Would you rather be left alone?"

   "No, no, it's quite alright." He chuckled. "It can get lonely around here." His words slipped out before he coukd stop them. 

   He allowed himself a warm smile, hoping his eyes would be enough to show the emotion. He looked away, however, hoping she wouldn't look him too directly in the eyes. His pupils were slits. 

   "Right, then." She turned to him and stood taller. "Would you care to dance?"

   "It'd be a pleasure," replied Alaric, allowing her arms to wrap around his as they walked inside, back into the crowd, the atmosphere switching from the cool dryness back to warm lights and the hum of crowds. 

   As he looked around, he caught the gaze of a pair of blue eyes, falling close to navy. They exchanged a grin, and the blue-eyed boy closed his eyes and turned away in a way that said carry on. 

   Classical music carried through the air, golden rays pouring in through massive windows to illuminate the otherwise dim area. Tables covered in food or elaborate bouquets and candles lined the sides of the room, leaving couples to dance around the center. The two found a spot towards the side, where Alaric offered his hand and stiffly pulled her in. Her movements were smooth and lax as she spun around him, taking the lead until he pulled her back in in a waltz. His shoe caught the ground, and he stumbled, but the lady laughed as she pulled away, his hands in hers, then swayed back in and spun around his finger. On cue of the music, he pulled her in once again for a dip, and their eyes locked. However, the motion loosened the ribbon behind his mask, and he stood straight. 

   "Forgive me," he muttered, sliding it into place to tie the back. 

   "Let me help," she said through a chuckle as she reached over to take the ribbon. Alaric held up his hand defensively before she could make contact, then rushed to add, "That's quite alright." Her gaze lingered on him a second longer until he righted himself. 

   "I know I'm probably wrong," she said, pressing a gloved hand to her own face. "And it was probably a trick of the light. But I could have sworn your pupils were slits," she mused. His heart nearly escaped his ribs, and he felt his wings press against the binding cloth. "Must be the light," he uttered. He felt her eyes graze over his again, and he turned his head away. She reached up, and before he could stop her, she brushed a strand of hair from his eyes behind his ear. 

   A long, pointed ear. 

   A Vampire's ear. 

   She stumbled back and stared with wide eyes, lips parted. 

   "You're the prince?" she gasped, earning them a few stares from surrounding visitors. 

   "Please, keep your voice down." The growing number of eyes on him burned holes knto his clothes. She fell silent, taking another step back, and covered her mouth with a gloved hand. He swallowed against the burn in the back of his throat and nearly ran into someone, muttering an apology as he pushed for the door. As he strode away, the air pushed his hair back further, and he resorted to covering his ears with his hands as his heart pounded against his ribs. He was too afraid to check how many people had seen him. 

   Nobody followed? He thought, whipping around before sighing and ripping off his mask. He panted, feeling the cold air rush through to his lungs, stinging his nose. Nobody followed. He leaned the back of his head against the cool stone wall several paces from the door as he closed his eyes and pressed his hand to his chest. 

   Adrenaline. Not something I get to feel often. A grin spread across his face, and he let out a dry chuckle. Oh, you're an idiot, Alaric. His smile faded, and he opened his eyes again. I'd better get away from here.

   "Oh my Divine," gasped a voice behind him, when his mask was halfway back up his face. He slipped it on to see an older couple gaping at him, just around a wall. 

   Shit. Corners again. 

   Alaric stammered, his mind gone blank. "Can I help you?" he tried, wincing as it dawned that his ears were showing again. He watched emotions war on their faces, their expressions dancing somewhere between awe and shock and fear. 

   "It really is you," remarked the woman, stepping closer. Her voice felt far off as she tilted her head, her gaze unwavering. "Prince Alaric. Child of Percy." When she reached forward, Alaric pulled away with a frown, and her face twisted in confusion.

   "You're more... Ordinary than I expected," she said, and Alaric shrugged. 

   He heard footsteps rushing behind him, and he twirled around to see the young lady from before, jogging over.

   "Hey, are you-" she cut herself off, catching her breath. "Mum? Dad? What're you doing with the Prince?" He threw an agitated look her way, and she fell silent. They all did, as they fell stiff and frozen. He felt nausea grip at his stomach against the press of their stares, as he searched for an exit. He caught a set of questioning blue eyes amidst the crowd inside, held his gaze, and nodded to the side in one fluid motion. 

   Meet me over there. 

   The blue-eyed boy nodded and disappeared into the crowd. 

   He breathed out a sigh and slipped off his glasses, then tied on his mask. 

   "Have a lovely evening," he muttered, curtly, as he walked away to push open the door without looking back. 

   He ducked his head as he walked along the wall, ignoring the few lingering looks from afar until he found a separate exit to the side where Adrian awaited him. The tall, languid boy threw him a lopsided smile as he twirled a set of keys in his hand and unlocked the exit. 

   "What happened to you?" he asked, running a hand through his dark curls, as he closed the door behind them and locked it. "Lucky I came to see what the fuss was about. Too bad I was late."

   "I don't even want to talk about it," said Alaric, as they started down the hall. He tore off the mask again and rubbed his eyes. 

   "I never saw you as much of a partier, anyway," he replied with a chuckle. "Was that the lucky lady out there?"

   "Please, never say that again." He dug his glasses from his inner coat pocket and rubbed at his forehead. 

   "Okay. But was she?"

   "You could say that." They found a set of winding stairs, meeting a long balcony running over the breezeways. They would be alone there, apart from the dozens of windows they shared with a hallway inside. Still, it was the most solace they coukd get without having to deal with guards. 

   "I think I know that girl," Adrian said, stretching his arms above his head.

   "Oh yeah?" Alaric looked behind them before untucking his shirt, reaching up the back to undo the binding cloth. He sighed as he let his wings uncurl and stretch behind him. 

   "Yeah," he replied, eying the bat-like wings that hung behind the prince. "I think I saw her in the paper a while ago."

   "That so? Did you catch her name?"

   "Nope. I only saw her portrait." Alaric hummed in reply.

   Meanwhile, Adrian reached into his inner coat pocket and produced a small flower. It was a poppy, bright and delicate. "Milady," he said, brushing a strand of ginger hair to the side to tuck it behind his pointed ear. Alaric blinked at the gesture, then broke into a small laugh that flashed his fangs. Adrian felt his own face warm at the sight. 

   "I nicked it from a bouquet earlier," he muttered, running a hand through the front of his hair. Alaric opened his mouth to comment, but something inside stole his attention. He pushed Adrian to the side and slipped his wings back under his shirt, wincing as he pressed them against his body and away from the windows the best he could. Adrian drew in a breath, but Alaric shushed him. 

   As if on cue, a number of maids walked by, tittering and murmuring among themselves in muffled voices inside. At the front was Amelia Fitton, who led the group and held all the girls' blind attention. Her gaze lingered on the window closest to them, eyes narrowing like a serpent's before moving on with her coworkers.

   "Close," Adrian muttered, when they were out of earshot. Alaric simply shrugged, fingers absently finding the flower's stem behind his ear. Damned laws in this damned Kingdom that I'm the next damned ruler of. 

   He shook away the thoughts, but couldn't shake the feeling that he was seen. 

   They stayed there and chatted about nothing in particular for the next hour until the ball came to an end. When the guests were nearly done filing out, a nearby bell tower chimed twelve times- their cue to leave. Alaric sighed and Adrian frowned as they stepped out of the balcony, down the stairs, and found the cold, winding halls of the palace. 

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