I tremble, they're gonna eat me alive
If I stumble they're gonna eat me alive
Can you hear my heart beating like a hammer?
Beating like a hammer

"Help I'm Alive" by Metric

June 28th, 1519

A swirl of colour, lights and sound assault her senses. The room is spinning and she doesn't quite know why; she hasn't had anything to drink as of yet- it's nerves she positive. Never before had Catherine attended an event such as this. The lavish masquerade was in honour of the King's 28th birthday and so of course no expense was spared in order to make the ball the most extravagant any courtier had seen since the King's own wedding celebrations.

Everyone was invited from the mightiest of Duke to the lowliest of country gentleman to join in with the festivities. The Parr's were among the many nobles to receive invitations and despite their notorious aversion of court they had to but oblige his Majesty; though honestly Catherine was secretly happy to attend even if her mother was not.

So far the night had been all but a blur of music, dance and laughter too much almost for a girl to take it all in. In the typical fashion the dance had been themed and everyone given roles in which to play; Catherine was a wood nymph or spirit of some sort. She cared not much for the character but relished the attire she had to wear.

A dress of vivid jade silk, the plain bodice having only ribbon ties for sleeves which tied into bows. The farthingale had several layers of tulle that puffed the skirt out. A top her head was a crown of silver filigree butterflies intricately crafted. Of which her long, burnished strawberry- blonde locks had been swept up into a high bun of which the headpiece decorated. She wore nothing more but matching soft silk silver shoes hidden beneath her dress.

She certainly felt magical and somewhat mysterious with the silver mask that shielded her face. As she surrendered to the frantic rhythms of the music and allowed herself to be twirled and paraded by an assortment of masked knights, she felt such an overwhelming sense of euphoria overtake her. Feelings of nausea and ecstasy filled her being and did little to keep her feet on the ground. However Catherine was much too caught up in the moment to even considering resting- too much fun was to be had to even contemplate stopping.

She continued to dance and there was never a shortage of men asking for her hand. One in particular she noted with amusement had danced with her twice already and was now leading her into yet another dance. He wore a silk doublet and shorts of a soft, fern green with white hose and brown, leather thigh- high boots. His mask too was silver and his jacket with silver detailing. Normally Catherine would have noticed such insignificant details more closely but under the haze of masque she was blissfully ignorant.

Though his mask hid much of his face she could make out his dark green eyes flecked with brown that for much of the dance were fixed intently on her. He like many of the other male couturiers was dark haired with tan skin, he was tall just peaking above six foot with a lean but muscular frame. She didn't have to see his entire face to know he was attractive, not the most handsome but notably good looking.

She had to of yet caught a name but to be didn't need one, it was a part of the enthrallment of masquerades- the mystery of it all. It was an opportunity to abandon all inhibitions and cast aside your identity and be whoever you desire. Everyone was for one night on equal footing, titles and names didn't matter all that mattered was the music and the dance. You could be the King of England and not a soul would ever know, you could dance with the King and be oblivious.

Of course Catherine was more than sure her 'knight' was no King, he certainly didn't have the gait or regal air. She sensed a minor noble but with his assured walk and posture one in favour, part of the inner circle perhaps, from what she could see behind the costume he certainly fitted the part well enough. As the song playing reached a climax Catherine and her partner pranced to the front of the procession. Her knight took the moment -though inadequate- to lean in and say "So tell me fair wood nymph have you enjoyed yourself tonight?" To which Catherine's only reply was an arched eyebrow as they weaved under another dancing couple's arms clasped in an arch.

Most men would take the silence as hint that Catherine had no intention of engaging in conversation; especially if it was to take the course she knew it would. Sadly her partner seemed to lack enough tact or even common sense to realize this and continued down the slippery slope. "I must confess I have, you have been a truly enchanting dancer and mystical creature or not you've bewitched me tonight."This comment had both eyebrows raised and Catherine biting her lip hard as to not cackle at the man's attempts. Yet despite her continued silence he still tried to engage her. "Tell me enchantresses are you as could on the dance floor as you are in bed?"

This certainly engaged her, how dare he even contemplate asking her such a crude thing. Pity was replaced with indignant rage. Her jaw clenched as she stopped herself from giving him a slap to the back of the head like a mother would to her child, but she was a Parr and that wasn't courtier behaviour and beneath her. Instead as the music score came to and end and the pair were at the beginning of the parade of dancers she coyly stuck her left foot out and it found its mark. Her partner's feet came in contact with it and she felt him tip forward and with a great crash was left sprawled on the floor.

The whole room erupted in laughter; deafening. Catherine felt a tinge of guilt afterwards as she watched the man blush from head to toe as he struggled to pull himself up she offered a hand. He took and was surprised to find her jerk him sharply up almost causing him to tip forward and end up on the ground once more. As soon as he steadied himself and looked up he noticed his wood nymph was gone. He scanned the crowds and caught for a moment a glimpse of her lithe frame disappearing into the sea of party goers. All of which were staring at him and laughing but he cared not. He instantly set off after her but she was all but gone leaving him with only dirtied stockings and the memory of her delicious smirk. And the night descended further into revelry and mischief, the lights and music blurred as the alcohol poured drowning the sorrows of the court until the morning when the hangovers would drag those all back to their grim realities.