1st lie: Welcome to the masquerade
The castle of Soleana was busy as a hive, hundreds of servants milling about, bringing plates and decorations, making sure that every nook and cranny of the huge castle was perfect for the upcoming party. The kitchen was like a battlefield, ingredients laying everywhere, not a single square centimeter left empty between the hundreds of different dishes prepared for the occasion, the exhausted cooks admiring proudly the results of their efforts before they were brought out to the several dining rooms and reception halls.
The princess Elise was looking worriedly through her window, leaning over a bit to see the arrival of the guests. Hundreds of nobles from all around the world would gather tonight, in her castle, and a good parts of them were bound to try and seduce her. The King's throne had remained empty for too long. Her people loved her, and she did her best to rule wisely, but there were too many things she did not know enough about, or didn't have the stature necessary to control. Moreover, shall anything happen to her, without an heir nor a husband, there would be no one left to rule Soleana. She was now in age to marry, and each year that passed brought more questions or suspicions from the other nobles. Why refuse to marry? Had she a secret lover? Why not show him to the world then? Was she ashamed?
And the truth was just that. She was ashamed. Ashamed of her feelings for the blue hero who had saved her a few years ago. Ashamed of the fact that she could love, desire, a being that was not another human being. And who most surely didn't reciprocate her feelings. She gripped the windowsill, her knuckles white with the strength of her grip, and of the emotions and turmoil within her heart. It was wrong. Oh, so wrong... So why did it feel so good, why was she so happy when he was near her? Why?
Suppressing the tears that burned her eyes, she turned her back to the window, put her regal mask back in place, and strode confidently back toward her rooms and the magnificent dress waiting for her. Her tailors had outdone themselves: contrarily to her usual short, innocently white, princess dresses, the one that awaited her was a long black dress, with long and ample black sleeves. It was made of several layers, a sleeveless and soft black silk dress closest to her body so that it was comfortable, a translucent long black veil ran over it, brushing her feet and trailing after her when she walked, the long and ample sleeves hiding her hands. It was doubled by intricate and beautiful lace, with golden threads and ribbons enlightening the ensemble. It was mature and gorgeous. And it gave a very clear message. She was a Queen now, not a Princess anymore. She had to find a worthy husband.
The sunset found her in the reception hall, greeting the sovereigns and aristocracy of the foreign kingdoms who had been invited to the party. Most complimented her 'more mature' outfit, and even when they had gone to talk to their friends, she still felt their hungry eyes roaming over her body. It sent cold chills down her spine and she felt like a rabbit surrounded by wolves. The one who would be able to snatch the position of King of Soleana would become one of the most powerful men on this world, and rich beyond belief, be it through the treasures of the castle's vaults or the resources of the land. They all knew that, and were eager to please her, hypocrisy and greed behind their every word, their every movement. It sickened her.
She was brought out of her dark thoughts by the arrival of the King of the Northern Lands, Asmod Frostgate, and his suite. He could hardly be missed, and the crowd seemed to naturally part to let them pass. The Northern Lands were after all the richest and most powerful Kingdom, and the display of power the late King Andraste Frostgate had shown a few centuries ago by singlehandedly wiping out his main opponent, the Sandstorm Empire, leaving behind a chilly wasteland full of ice statues frozen forever in an expression of fear and despair, was still fresh in everybody's mind. The Northern Mages were not to be trifled with. And they bathed in the fear and awe they inspired the other kingdoms, viciously keeping the secrets of their magic for themselves, looking down on the others in the same way gods woulds ants.
The King was clad in long dark dragon hide coats, another proof of his power, for very few could stand up against the mighty creatures and goods made from a dragon's body could sell well enough for one to buy a little kingdom with their profits. The sharp scales glinting crimson in the light of the setting sun, contrasting strongly with his alabaster skin and traditional pale bluish clothes, the color of ice and snow. The pure white fur, silver, ivory and diamond jewels and short jet black hair added to that colorless, ethereal look that gave him such a strong presence. Or maybe it was the cold who seemed to follow him everywhere he went?
The Queen, Freja, wore a long white lace dress and intricate diamond bracelets, necklace and earrings. Her long silky raven hair up in a complex hairdo before cascading down her back and flowing freely behind her in the wind, her charcoal makeup making her pure emerald eyes stand out, the only color on her figure. She was as beautiful as a goddess, a pure beauty that seemed almost fragile. She was followed by the 3 Princes, the Princess and a few servants, all of them making a colorless spot in the crowd, as if someone had put a filter around them and removed every color other than than of their eyes, either pure blue or radiant green.
She politely welcomed them, almost flinching under the piercing ice blue gaze of their King before he turned away and stalked toward those of the other guests he deemed worthy of his presence, mainly the Queen and Crown Prince of the western kingdom of Ratash, who were engaged in a heated conversation with the King of the Sharken Isles, Frostgate's ivory skin and heavy, colorless clothes contrasting greatly with their dark complexion and light, colorful attire.