Feliciano studied himself in the mirror. He was draped in robes and clothes that completely covered his body. And the mask he wore disguised his face from the strangers of the festival. With it he was no longer Feliciano Vargas. He was just an ordinary person on the street, belonging to nothing. He could be anybody he wanted to.

He bounced downstairs, greeting his brother.

"Buona sera, fratello." He happily skipped around the table. His brother only continued to look at the paper as he grunted in reply. "Dove nonno?"

"He's in his study."

"Oh. Well, I'm going out." This time he did look up at him, checking on what his brother decided to wear today. He sighed in annoyance.

"Why do you insist on wearing the most insufferable costumes?"

"What do you mean, Lavino?" He said with a tilt of his head.

"What I mean is," he got up, "why do you wear the most bland costumes? You could have the nicest and most fashionable costume you want! And yet you wear that! Why are you ashamed of us?"

"I am not ashamed! I just like being myself around strangers without them treating me different because I am part of house Vargas." He protested.

"That sounds pretty shameful to me!" Feliciano smiled at his brothers rebuttal.

"Why do you always have to be so negative?"

"I am not! You take that back!"

"Lavino! Stop this! Why don't you come with me? It'll be fun?"

"Walk around with a bunch of filthy strangers who are too ashamed of themselves that they feel the need to dress up to cover up who they truly are?" He spat, "No thanks." Pulling out his chair, he sat down once more and went back to his paper. Feliciano felt a bit hurt by his brothers snappy comments, but brushed it off.

"Ciao, Lavino."

The city was alive and jumping. People gathered in the streets without a care in the world, several of the nice houses were beating with life, music, and light. People passed by and laughed with joy as they enjoyed the things they couldn't normally enjoy.

With all of the nice places, Feliciano found it difficult to decide which party he wanted to go to, same problem every year. Eventually, however, he just went to the place with the most people, and the liveliest music.

It was a lovely house, indeed. Beautiful pillars, a foreign Spanish designed roof, decorated, colorful glass windows, and a marble courtyard that overlooked the water with several boats at their docks. And the interior was just as lovely. The party was held in a large ball room that emitted a yellowish gleam with the cream colored walls and yellow drapes, all with the glitter of the candles from the jewels of the great chandelier above. It was an understatement to say the Feliciano was deeply impressed. No Italian in Venice could afford this house. Not even he. It was obvious that a rich noble from another country lived here.

The band began to play another song and people began to dance. Those who were unoccupied dancing were at the large table, eating away. Some lifting their masks just slightly to bring the delectable food to their lips, and savor the rich taste. It made Feliciano happy, knowing that most of the people here could finally get a good meal to fill their bellies, and drink some wine that would daze their busy minds.

Oh, how Feliciano admired Carnevale. It was a good time, an equal time.

After a couple of hours enjoying the festivities that the party had to offer he found himself joining the conversations of the party. The people who weren't preoccupied with dancing and eating were busy gossiping. Most of the people were young ladies who were criticizing, well, anybody.

"Well, I hear that this place belongs to a rich young noble who's looking to find a wife." One girl in a pink gown and moretta mask said.

"No, no," another piped up, "I heard it was an old maid who had acquired wealth from family. Now she throws parties to entertain herself." All of the women shook their heads at the ridiculous notion.

"No! You're all wrong!" They all turned towards a deep voice with an unfamiliar accent. And although he was speaking English he seemed to understand Italian.

"What do you mean?" One of the girls asked in English. The mysterious young man put his arm around the young lady who asked and explained.

"My name is Gilbert and I am one of the young masters who runs this house. Well, technically it belongs to my grandfather, but the nice Austrian noble who lent it to us said it was ours, so it's technically part mine!"

"Well than what are you?"

"Pardon?"

"I mean, where are you from, if not from Austria?"

"Well, I was born in Prussia, but then we moved to Germany when I was about seven. Can't you tell by my accent?"

"We're all used to Austrians pushing us around. And your accents all sound the same. Austrian, Prussian, German, all the same!" One of the others piped up defensively.

"Well we're only here as noble, German nobles." He said putting an arm around one of their shoulders. "We don't mean any harm. Besides! Would a stuck up jerk throw an awesome party like this for such lovely ladies?" Many of the girls whipped out their fans at this point and began to flutter them in front of their faces.

"No, I suppose not."

"What did you say your name was again?"

"Gilbert! Gilbert Beilschmidt!" By this point, Feliciano broke away from the rest of the group. Gilbert was quickly moving the conversation to the point of only flirting. Everyone who was previously at the dinner table were now either on the dance floor or in large groups. And the dinner table was now empty and being cleared off. Not to mention more people had joined the party. This was definitely a very popular party; all of the guests were starting to overwhelm him.

He needed to get away.

Other than the ball room, the rest of the house was dark and empty. The halls weren't nearly as decorated as the exterior was. Actually, they weren't really decorated at all. There were only bland pictures and the occasional coo-coo clock on the walls. And the only furniture was the occasional table with a dimly lit candle that only helped to light three feet around it.

The halls were long and broad, not to mention confusing. For the most part they were straight, with a sharp turn indicating another corridor, but he would find an even narrower passage just randomly placed in the hall. These passages were narrow and would wind just leading to another one of the bland corridors.

Oh how Feliciano thought they were bland! Even the walls were close to a black color. Nothing lively lived in these halls.

The only other things were the black, heavy doors. Every time Feliciano came across one he attempted to peak into it. Most of the time, however, they were locked, and he moved on. But then there was one room. It was right at the end of the hall. Its double doors were lightly cracked open, emitting a deep orange glow and a soft crackle of fire. Feliciano took his gloved hand and lightly pushed the door open slightly, only enough so he could enter without much notice. He slipped through the small crack he created for himself and shut the door behind him. Stepping closer into the room, he noticed that it was a library. A fire crackled in a fireplace, illuminating the room, although not completely. It was only bright enough to read a book at the two arm chairs in front of the mantle. And with each step he marveled in the beauty of the room. It was a magnificent room, almost as great as the ballroom. Every inch of the walls were covered with books. The wall that held the mantle also had a huge picture of three men. The eldest sat in one of the arm chairs in the room, the other two were by his side. The one to his right looked almost exactly like him, only younger and with shorter hair. The other, to his left, had white hair and red eyes.

His attention was drawn to the man on the right. He seemed stern, despite the fact that everyone was practically expressionless. His blonde hair was slicked back in a neat fashion, his broad shoulders were out and his hands behind his back. Feliciano's eyes found themselves his. They were blue, but they were the most intense blue he'd ever seen. Not even the sky or any blue in his paintings came close. He stepped closer, hypnotized by the man in the painting until he was directly underneath the frame.

"What the hell are you doing in here?!" Feliciano spun around quickly, causing him to trip on the robes of his costume and knocking over a nearby table. There came a huge crashing sound as the water basin atop of the table fell to the wooden floors. The water was quickly soaking up into the carpet. He held onto the wooden table clumsily when he looked in the direction of the voice. He saw that it was the same man from the painting. This made his stomach drop and fear the worst.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-" He said, fumbling around with the table, attempting to put it back in its place.

"Why are you here?! This section of the house is off limits!" Feliciano began to sob, scrambling to the floor to pick up the shattered remains of the glass that was once a water pitcher. "Here, you don't have to do that. It's fine, really."

"I'm sorry." He said, sniffling some more.

"It's fine, really. Just take a seat." The man said frustrated. He led him to the chair that was opposite his, and sat him down. The man from the painting took his seat once more.

"What about the mess?" Feliciano asked, pointing to the wreck.

"Never mind that, one of the maids will get it later. My name is Ludwig Beilschmidt and I am the grandson of the master of this house. You obviously are a guest in this house and were unwelcome to indulge any further than the ballroom and dining area. So why are you here?" Feliciano didn't know how to answer. He didn't even know what really drove him to seek out the rest of the house.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"No, I'm sorry, I just needed to get away from everyone, I suppose, got a bit crowded." His expression lightened somewhat, but just slightly.

"Ja, I know what you mean. But that's still no excuse to enter someone's home uninvited."

"I know, I know, and I'm sorry." Ludwig sighed.

"It's fine, really. What's your name?"

"Feliciano."

"Do you have a last name?"

"No." Ludwig gave him a skeptical look. "I mean I would rather not say. I like to dress up so that people don't know who I am. Please just call me Feliciano."

"Alright, Feliciano."

"Alright, Ludwig." They just sat there and listened to the fire crackle, letting everything sink in. "Where you at the party earlier? I've been here for hours, it's a lovely home you've got, and it is a lovely party-"

"No."

"Scusi?"

"I wasn't at the party earlier. I don't like hosting parties and therefore let my brother do it." He said while still studying the fire. Feliciano noticed how the intense flames reflected so clearly in Ludwig's eyes.

"He seems nice. Your brother, that is."

"You met him?"

"Yeah, he seems to like to flirt with the nice girls outside. I just happened to be there when he did."

"He's not completely bad. He has his flaws, but he's my brother."

"I know what you mean. I have a brother. A lot of people say that he's mean and loud, but nobody really knows him like I do."

"People say that about Gilbert all the time. Except they say that he's just arrogant, not mean. But I would agree that he's annoying."

"That's just because he's your brother. But you love him." Feliciano wanted to take back that last part. He expected Ludwig to react angrily, but he just nodded.

"Ja, I do." They were silent for a moment. It was uncomfortable, Feliciano's heart was racing. He tapped his fingers along his bouncing leg, finally blurting out,

"I really am sorry. People always say that I'm in the wrong place at the wrong time." Ludwig looked back over at Feliciano causing the boy to jump a bit. He noticed this. "Are you afraid of me?"

"W-wha-"

"Most people are." He looked back at the fire. "Once they meet me they try to stay away from me. They think that I'm just a big brute. And people who talk to me say that it looks like I'm looking down upon them. And I know that I'm big, and I'm intimidating, and people say that I look upset, but I'm not a monster. So you don't have to be afraid of me." They were silent for a minute, and Feliciano could see the hurt on his face. He felt bad to say the least.

"I'm not afraid." Ludwig did look shocked at this. His head snapped up, and this time Feliciano repressed the instinct to jump out of shock to prove it. "Are you lonely? If people are afraid of you, you must be lonely." Now he was going too far. He could feel himself pushing past boundaries he had no business being near. But to his surprise, he replied calmly.

"I am. I am lonely." Feliciano wasn't sure what made them bring up this conversation. They were strangers, and Feliciano violated his household belongings, and here they were sharing feelings. He reached out timidly and grabbed Ludwig's hand.

"Me too. I mean, I have some friends, but I always feel that they're reluctant to see me. I know that I'm loud, and annoying, and that I am clumsy, and I know I'm coward-ish, but it still hurts. Fratello doesn't even like to hang out with me that much. So I know what it's like to be lonely."

"It's not a good feeling, I agree."

"Well, I'm here now. And now we don't have to be alone!" This made Ludwig smile and hold Feliciano's hand back.

"I suppose not." They sat there, smiling at each other. Ludwig ran his thumb over his knuckles which caused goose bumps to peek underneath his sleeves and gloves. It was a strange feeling, and exhilarating feeling. Feliciano whished, in an odd way, that it'd never end. The grandfather clock in the corner chimed, roaring loudly. Feliciano and Ludwig snapped their heads in the direction of the noise. When Feliciano's eyes fell on the time his eyes went wide.

"Oh, Dio mio!"

"What is it?" Ludwig asked as Feliciano retreated his hand immediately.

"It's late, I should really head home."

"Umm. . .uh. . ." Ludwig stuttered, not really sure what to say. "Do you need a ride home? We have plenty of gondoliers at the docks in the courtyard."

"No thank you, I just need to go." Feliciano quickly burst through the doors and sped through the hallway, trying to find his way out. How long was I roaming these halls? He wondered as he tried to make his way out. Finally, he found the ballroom. The party was still active, but it was definitely dying down.

"Wait!" Feliciano spun around to see that Ludwig had followed. He grabbed Feliciano's hand and pulled him slightly to prevent him from walking out. "Will we see each other again? I want to meet." Feliciano blushed at the way Ludwig phrased these sentences, also at the way he was holding his hand.. He knew that he was a feminine person, and he knew that he had a mask on, but . . .

"Ludwig, do you know that I'm a man?" Ludwig began to blush intensely. He hadn't meant to sound like he was chasing a fair damsel. He truly just wanted to see his male friend again and soon. That's not weird, right?

"Ja, ja. I just wanted to meet with you again. N-not in that way! I just wa-want t-to-" Feliciano giggled at how awkward Ludwig was.

"We can meet at Lady Cassandra's house tomorrow. She always throws great parties. I'll be there at sunset wearing this mask."

"Alright."

"Ciao, Ludwig." Feliciano said waving off. As he made his way home he thought about what had just occurred. He should feel weird, the way he agreed to meet Ludwig come tomorrow. But he didn't. It didn't feel weird at all. In fact, he was actually excited to see him tomorrow at sunset.