Chapter 7- Masks and Mishaps
"Simple elegance can go a very long way."
That's Alice's advice, and that's what I try to keep in mind as I look through the dress racks at some shop in Port Angeles.
It is the Friday before the masquerade ball, and I am as adamant as ever to crash it. There is so much built up emotion in me that I feel like doing something crazy, something rebellious.
I want to break some rules.
Everything about working in the manor is controlled. I have no say in anything, and it drives me crazy. I have been used to working hard, that isn't a problem, but it's just the fact that the ancient servants-and-royalty caste system bothers me immensely.
I sigh as I look through a rack of ball gowns that scream PROM. They're covered in glitter or sequins, their skirts exploding with bright colors like neon pink and green and orange. They're all very tacky and they look like the Teletubbies made them.
I really don't know what I'm doing. I skipped a tutoring session with the Creeper to come shopping for this thing, because Alice didn't have anything appropriate for me to wear. She herself is working like a good girl, and here I am completely lost.
The only advice she was able to give me is that I should go for a simple gown since I don't want to stand out too much, and that the color should compliment my skin tone. Yeah, I have no idea what she meant by that.
"You look lost, my dear," a voice speaks up from behind me and I turn to see a very gay man smiling sympathetically at me. His name tag reads José.
"I am."
"Anything I can help you with?"
How about my life in general?
"I need a gown," I tell him. "Something simple and elegant, though I'm not really sure what that means."
"Oh sweetie, we don't do simple," he says sadly. "Look around. This is Tinkerbell's favorite place."
I laugh. "I was thinking more along the lines of the Teletubbies going to prom."
He throws his head back in a loud guffaw and then nods towards the back of the store. "Come on; I think I can find you something."
Twenty minutes later, José has found three dresses for me and I would like to worship at his feet.
One of the dresses is a hot pink that is a little too bright, so I put that one aside. It lacks embroidery, but it still burns my eyes.
The second is a teal color and I love the way it flows to my feet but it makes my boobs look funny and I'm not digging the one-strap thing.
The last one is the most boring of all, but it's perfect.
Strapless on top and flowing down to the ground, it is a dull brown color that José calls "olive". It makes me look tall and it wasn't really until José said that it looks gorgeous with my hair and skin that I decided to buy it.
After sending a picture of it to Alice and getting her text message of approval, of course.
Of course, as modest as the dress is, it still isn't within my budget.
Still, I hand over my credit card with every intention to return it once I'm done being reckless.
I have the first half of Saturday to myself.
Normally I work on Saturdays, but since the masked ball is going on and I am not invited to serve, I have the day off.
Before Alice left to work this morning, she whispered to my sleepy form that Stella would stop by to deliver my mask and then help me get ready.
I don't know who Stella is, but Alice makes her sound awesome. Apparently she is a middle-aged worker who does arts and crafts in her free time, using her paycheck for supplies. Her handmade masks are, in Alice's words, "impeccable" and "chic".
I am restless in the morning, unable to eat anything for breakfast other than a slice of toast. I keep staring at my dress, touching it and looking it over to make sure it didn't spontaneously tear on its own. I also keep glancing towards the dresser, beside which Alice left me the pair of shoes I am supposed to wear. She also left a curling iron, hairspray, and her makeup bag. I don't know what to do with any of it.
The masked ball is said to begin at 6pm and Alice is supposed to text me when all the guests have arrived. Fifteen minutes after everyone has adapted to the environment and found something or someone to occupy themselves with, I am supposed to take the elevator down. If anyone asks, I have just returned from the bathroom.
My goal for the ball is to blend in with the crowd and get information on the prince.
Truth is, I want to get into his head. I want to know more about him. I thirst to know more about him. I am turning into an epic stalker, but I hate that this man has dominated my thoughts for so long, and without good reason.
I am not myself when I am around him; he disarms me and I want to know why. There's something about him that I need to know, a level beyond the lickable jaw and lean muscles and full lips.
There's more to him and if I have to do some digging to find out what it is, then I'll get myself a hard hat and a shovel.
Around 2pm, there is a knock on my door.
The woman has to be in her late fifties or early sixties, with salt-and-pepper hair braided down her back. Her wide smile makes me feel like I've known her for years, like she's a friend of my grandmother's or something.
"Stella?" I ask, and she softly tells me yes as I step aside to let her in. There is a small plastic bag in her hands.
"Is that my mask?"
"Oh yes," she says, and just like that I am reminded of my Grandma Pearl who had the same tone of voice. It's soft and gentle, like she's reading you a bedtime story.
Stella pulls out my mask and it is almost as dazzling as the smile she gives me.
The mask is gold and it is lovely. The outer edges are delicately roped and it's covered in crystals and intricate designs made of glimmering gold thread. It doesn't look handmade in the slightest.
"I tried to make it Venetian style," Stella says, gently placing the mask in my hands. It's heavier than I expected. "The slits are very catlike; your eyes will be visible but not revealingly so. The elastic band in the back will be comfortable as well."
"This is amazing," I tell her sincerely. "Just… how?"
She laughs softly and sits on the edge of my bed with her hands folded in her lap. "Oh, I've been making things like this for years. Ever since I was a little girl and my mother was a maid here."
My head snaps up to look at her and she nods, immediately knowing my unasked question.
"Yes, my mother was a maid here before I was. She used to get me arts and crafts supplies to keep me busy and out of trouble, and so the obsession started. I've always loved making masks in particular, don't know why. When I was a teenager, Queen Katherine, the queen before Esme, saw some of my work and ever since then I've been making masks for the masked ball."
"You make the masks for the royal family?" I am pleasantly surprised.
"Oh, I haven't made masks for the entire royal family since the eighties. They've forgotten my availability, I'm afraid." A look of forlornness crosses her soft features.
I run my finger over part of the mask's embroidery. "Hey, Stella? Can I ask you something?"
"Anything, dear."
"Why are you doing this for me? You know I'm breaking the rules, right?"
Stella smiles and there's a spark in her blue eyes.
"Oh, but that's why I'm doing it."
By the time 6pm rolls around, I am a nervous wreck.
Stella helped me get ready so I am donned in the gown as well as the mask, and I do not look like myself. My hair falls over my shoulders in dark curls and is only pinned up a little by my ears. We almost used the entire bottle of hairspray and I know it is going to be a bitch to wash out.
Neither Stella nor I are experts on makeup, so we experimented a little and texted Alice pictures until we got her approval. The result was an even complexion, golden brown shimmering eye shadow with dark brown liner, and glossy pink lips. Simple, but elegant.
Right before Stella leaves, she pauses by the door and gives me a once-over.
She frowns. "Something is missing."
I glance in the mirror, but everything seems to be in order.
"Ah, yes," Stella says, smiling softly. "I know what."
I watch as she reaches behind her neck and unclasps a necklace that I didn't see because it was under her shirt. She pulls it from around her neck and gently drops it into my palm.
"It was my mother's," she says simply.
I finger the necklace in my hand; it's very vintage, with a thick gold chain and a diamond-shaped pendant with the words ribelle del cuore carved in it.
"It's lovely," I say. "But I couldn't possibly-"
"No, no, it's fine," Stella says, pushing my outstretched palm back towards me. "I want you to have it with you. Ribelle del cuore. Rebel of the heart."
"Is that what it means?"
She nods and smiles. "My mother was quite the rebel herself, though she wasn't as… headstrong and confident as you."
I smile at her and we hug before she leaves me on my own.
Half an hour past six, my phone buzzes. It's a text from Alice.
Everyone has arrived! Get crashin'! - A
My stomach twists nauseatingly.
I stare at the gorgeous girl in the mirror one last time. Her mask makes her look mysterious and stunning and the necklace that rests at her heart glints in the light.
She is also going commando, on top and on bottom.
"Let's do this."
When I leave my room, I realize how the entire atmosphere in the manor has changed.
For one thing, it's dead quiet on my floor. The only things I hear as I walk to the elevator are the rustle of my gown against the carpet at my feet and the thudding sounds from my heels.
The inside of the elevator has an electric buzz that seems unnatural compared to how I look in the elevator's mirror. I don't look like I belong.
When the elevator reaches the hallway that leads down to the main hall where the ball is taking place, I can hear the music while the doors are still closed.
When the doors open, I am greeted by a loud burst of music and laughter. The atmosphere has changed again; it is filled with joy and excitement. I hear the clinking of wine glasses and the classical music is probably played by a live orchestra. I can totally tell the difference.
Two women in masks and shimmering gowns pass by me in the hallway, laughing about something as they head to the public restroom at the other end of the hall. They glance curiously at me but I stare straight ahead.
At the end of the hallway is the big archway that leads into the main hall. Two Secret Service men stand there, and both their heads turn in my direction.
Act like you belong, act like you belong. Be stuck up and snobby and you'll be fine.
I stick my chin up and head straight for the archway, but I almost trip when one of the SS throws his arm out to block my way.
"Name," he demands.
What the hell?
My heart is racing a mile a minute as I wrack my brain for something to say.
"Why, don't you know who I am?" I ask with fake incredulity, and for some reason I sound a little British.
The two guards look at each other, their expressions uneasy.
"How dare you," I continue. "I did not come to this ball to be treated like some trespassing commoner. I'll have to speak to the Cullens about this… ridiculousness."
What a way with words you have, Your Royal Dipshit.
The two guards exchange another glance, behind those shades of course, and then one of them shrugs.
"Our apologies, ma'am," the one who stuck his arm out says. "It's just that we don't recall you getting through us to go to the washrooms back there."
I stick my chin up even higher and they can probably see up my nose.
"Gentlemen, that is your problem, not mine."
I go right on through them and enter the masked ball.
Alice was right. It is exactly like stepping back in time.
All of a sudden I am back in eighteenth century Europe. The men and women that are around me are dressed immaculately, with their tuxedos and ball gowns. Some women wear gowns like me, except mine is probably the simplest. They all hold wine glasses as they chat with one another, and some are already dancing on a dance floor.
The music is played by a live orchestra, and I recognize the tune though I don't know the name. The entire room is bright, the massive chandeliers hanging like brilliant mistletoe from the ceiling.
It doesn't look like the room I stood in just a few nights ago. This room is full of vivacity and life; it screams elegance and wealth and fun.
The fact that everyone is wearing a mask adds a mysterious quality to the entire event. I have no idea who is who, but that's pretty much the point.
I don't know where to start. I am so lost in the scenery that I forget what I am really here for: getting deets on the prince.
Speaking of the prince, where is he?
My eyes search the massive room for a bronze mess of hair, the only way I will be able to recognize him, but it's hard to tell from where I stand. There are so many people and dresses and masks that it's all a little overwhelming.
"Well, Bella," I whisper to myself. "Nothing you can do now but join the party."
I think wine may be my new favorite thing.
It has only been about half an hour and I have had two glasses. At first I hated the taste, but for appearance's sake I had to down it all.
I also spoke to a few people, all of which approached me saying something like, "I don't believe we've met."
My feet are aching from walking around, and everywhere I go I see eyes on me. It's extremely unnerving and it makes me nervous. All I can do is smile at those that smile at me, and make small talk with those that approach.
It's all a royal pain in my ass.
I have not seen the prince, either. I seriously hope he shows up, because I am doing this shit for him. Well, not for him, but about him. The people that I talk to keep asking me questions about myself, so I rarely have enough time to ask anything about the prince.
I tell them all that my name is Marie and that I am from Alaska. It explains my pale skin, and Alaska doesn't have many people that are prestigious. I tactfully avoid questions about my parents and how I know the Cullens. I always pretend to see someone I know and then move away from the person I am talking to.
"Bella!" I turn and finally see Alice, who is dressed in a fancier version of the uniform- black pencil skirt and deep purple blazer with a white shirt.
I discreetly edge my way over to her, almost tripping on my way there.
"You look amazing," she whispers from the corner of her mouth. She is facing away from me as she fills more wine glasses on a silver tray.
"Thanks," I mumble, pretending to people watch.
"Any deets on the prince?"
"No, everyone keeps asking about me."
"Of course, you look dazzling. Who wouldn't want to know everything about you?"
"Maybe this was a stupid idea."
"Are you having fun, though?"
"A little. It's nice to be someone else."
"Then it's worth it. Okay, I have to go."
Alice lifts her tray of wine up but I stop her, grabbing a glass.
My hand is only holding the glass of wine for two seconds before another, much larger hand gently pulls it away.
I am about to protest this rude ass behavior, but I freeze when I see that the person who has taken my wine away from me has the messy head of bronze hair that I have been searching for all night.
Oh my…
Alice is staring at him in shock as he puts my wine glass back on her tray and smiles at her.
"Thank you, Alice. That will be all."
What the…?
Alice nods and scurries away, but not after giving me a wide-eyed look.
Prince Edward, who is looking drop dead gorgeous in a black tux and simple black and gold mask, briefly looks at me with those piercing green eyes before bowing deeply.
Wow… He's not hesitating with the old-fashioned thing.
"May I have this dance?" he asks, looking up at me and raising one eyebrow. I don't know if it's an order or a request.
I clear my throat. "Um, okay. Yes. Sure."
He takes my arm and leads me over to the center of the hall, where people are doing the waltz.
Oh God, I can't dance…
He slowly walks us to the dance floor, and I can feel that my entire body is stiff. I can only focus on the fact that my arm is linked in his. My heart is beating rapidly and I'm trying to concentrate on breathing evenly.
Once we make it to the dance floor, we stand and stare at each other. I try to keep it together.
You're Marie, not Bella. Marie is not shy; Marie is royalty. Now act like it!
I lift my chin and the prince raises an eyebrow.
"If I may?" he asks.
If you may what?
I nod curtly, not knowing what I have just agreed to, and I am caught off guard when he takes me by the waist and gently pulls me toward him.
Whoa.
The feeling of his large hands just inches away from my ass is alien and I feel all flustered; I have no idea what to do.
"Put one hand on my shoulder," he orders softly, and I put my left on his broad shoulder. He takes it off and replaces it with my right instead, taking my left hand in his right while his other still rests on my waist. We aren't dancing yet.
Our faces are just inches apart (my heels make me a little taller) and he starts to waltz but I don't know how.
"You can't dance," he says, but it sounds like a question.
I try to form coherent words but it's hard. His touching me is too much of a distraction.
"No," I say, and I try to make my voice deeper so he won't know it's me.
I sound stupid.
Prince Edward smirks in amusement. Asshole.
"Just follow my feet, but do the opposite," he instructs. "We'll make a square."
I look down at his shiny dress shoes and start mirroring his movements. When he moves back, I move forward. When he moves forward, I move back. When he moves to the left or right, I do the same. It's not that hard and before I know it I can look at his face and waltz at the same time.
It's easier to face him when he's wearing a mask, but the eyes that peer out at me are no help. The mask is black and covers the top half of his face; there is gold embroidery on the left side and then a little on the bottom right. It sort of matches mine.
"Where is it that you're from?" he asks casually. "I don't believe we've met."
I clear my throat, remembering to alter my voice. "Alaska."
He raises a brow. "Oh? What family?"
I wrack my brain. "The Ducks."
Ducks? Nice substitute for Swans, you moron.
This time both his brows go up. "I don't believe I've heard of your family."
"Yes, we're quite small." My fake deep voice is starting to make me sound like a drag queen.
Prince Edward smiles again and then, slowly, he leans in so that his lips are at my ear.
Holy shit, I should have worn panties.
"You can't fool me," he whispers, and I shudder as his breath caresses the side of my face.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit shit shit! I am so dead.
He pulls away from me and looks very seriously into my eyes as we continue to dance. I swallow, and my saliva has a hard time going down. My heart is about to burst out of my chest and I can tell I'm beet red in the face.
He knows it's me and that can't be good.
"How did you know?" I ask quietly.
"I can tell."
"How?"
"You walk around here looking like a lost fawn. You almost fell flat on your face about three times. Your preference for the alcohol. How you evade any questions about yourself and your so-called family in Alaska. I think I've become quite familiar with your height and hair color as well."
Sweet Jesus… Stalker much?
"You've been following me around this whole time."
He half shrugs. "Following, observing… Call it what you will."
I'm a little freaked out and whenever he talks I can't look away from his lips. They look so soft…
"Are you going to tell on me?" I ask hesitantly.
He stares at me and I move my gaze from his intense eyes to his gold silk tie. It's crooked, and I try hard not to reach out and fix it.
"I don't think so," he mumbles, and my eyes flash towards his face again.
"Thanks." I don't know what else to say.
He doesn't respond and the waltz comes to a close.
I try to pull away but his grip on my waist tightens. "Wait. There's something I want to say."
Another dance starts and my feet are killing me but we keep on waltzing.
"I want to apologize," he says quietly. "About the letters."
I'm surprised, and I don't hide that fact. "Oh, yeah?"
"I didn't mean to be so rude the other day," he says. "I just felt like things were getting a little out of hand and inappropriate."
I snort. "Inappropriate? We were discussing the education of the workers, not exchanging our sexual history."
Ugh, word vomit…
The prince surprises me by laughing. It's a beautiful sound, deep and melodious.
"I don't think I'll ever get used to your bluntness," he says.
"You intend to get used to me, then?"
His smile fades and I want to smack myself. I wish I had a verbal filter so I wouldn't say stupid shit that ruins the perfection of the moment.
"I don't know," he surprises me by answering my question. "I really don't know."
I can tell by his eyes and the furrow of his brows that he's answering other questions as well, questions I haven't asked. Questions that I don't know the answer to myself.
We dance quietly for a while and my palms are sweaty, which is a little gross. I try not to be too embarrassed about it, and secretly hope that he doesn't notice.
His closeness is putting me on edge, and my entire body feels heated. His hand on my waist is enough to make me break out into a hot sweat, and the scent of his sexy man cologne is no help.
I want his body.
The dance ends and he lets go of me, taking a step back.
He bows, peering up at my from under his lashes. My breath stops short in my throat.
"Thank you for the dances, Marie Duck of Alaska." He smiles crookedly at me and I try to suppress laughter.
I do a very awkward curtsy. "My pleasure, Your Highness."
I turn to walk away, but he grabs my wrist. My skin heats up and when I turn to see what he wants, he lets go.
"Your mask," he says. "That was also how I knew it was you. Stella, right?"
I blink at him. "Yeah…"
He nods and smiles. "She made mine, too."
Wow…
Someone else comes to steal his attention and I am ignored, so I walk off the dance floor.
Then I realize that I'm actually not ignored, because many, many people are staring at me.
The blood rushes to my face as I hurriedly walk towards the hallway I came from. I think I'm done for the night.
I didn't do what I came here for. Instead of getting details on the prince, I danced with him. Twice. I'm not gonna lie, it was fun, but now I'm all flustered and just a little bit giddy on the inside.
I'm still determined to get deets on the prince, but I need a moment to compose myself.
The SS guys just nod at me this time as I pass them and head back into the hallway that leads to the bathroom. Of course the manor has bathrooms like in a hotel, with stalls and everything. The stalls just happen to be shiny and gold.
The public bathroom on the first floor is quiet, empty, and glossy. Seriously, everything sparkles.
I look into the mirror, which takes up an entire wall, and I am not surprised to find that my cheeks are still pink from excitement.
I am panting. Why am I panting?
I stare at the girl in the mirror, who is not me, and wonder what I'm doing with myself. Am I chasing after the prince? I don't like chasing after men. It's just not me.
No, I decide, I'm not chasing him. He's an enigma and I want to know more. It's curiosity that makes me thirst for knowledge about him, not a romantic interest.
So he's gorgeous, so what? Since when does that matter? I still don't know much about him, so what's with the silly crush, if it even is a crush?
I'm fucking confused, that's what. And I don't like to be confused.
The door opens and a woman walks in, blinding me with her insanely sparkly dress. Seriously, the thing is covered in… what is that? They look like sequins, and they're silver, absolutely covering about ninety percent of the dress. Her mask is equally sparkly, glittering silver with tassels on the sides.
I wash my hands for appearance's sake and she starts to do something with her hair, which is in an elaborate up-do.
She seems familiar, but of course I can't tell with the mask.
"I don't believe we've met," she says.
Ugh, if I had a nickel…
"No," I respond as I hastily turn the tap off and pull out a paper towel.
"I'm Tanya Denali," she says with authority, holding her left hand out.
Holy shit… And there's the sparkly ring on her finger.
I clear my throat and hesitantly take her hand.
"Marie," I say in my pretend deep voice. He grip is tight as we shake hands.
"Marie?" she says, smirking. "Or should I say Bella?"
What!
My jaw drops and she cackles like a witch, letting go of my hand.
"Seriously, girl, who are you trying to fool?" she asks, a malicious glint in her eyes.
She takes a step toward me and I take a step back. It reminds me of petty high school bullies and I swear if this bitch thinks she can bully me, I'll snap her neck. Maybe.
"Yeah, I know who you are," she says. "Bella Swan, the maid. Nice dress, did you make it yourself? And that mask… Stella made it, didn't she? Very clever."
My heart is thudding and she's getting in my personal bubble so I sidestep her so that my back is towards the door and hers is towards the wall.
"I don't know what you're trying to accomplish," she sneers in my face. "But it better have absolutely nothing to do with Edward."
I blink at her and she continues her bitching.
"You think I didn't see you with your hands all over him? You think I don't know about those little letters?" She gets in my face and my fists clench. "Remember your place. I can have you out of this manor and on the street so fast, you don't even know…"
She narrows her eyes at me and shoves herself into my shoulder before leaving the bathroom.
Once she leaves, I stand there in shock. I can't believe that she's just bullied me, and I did nothing about it. What the hell stopped me?
Maybe it's because she just came out of nowhere with her verbal attack. Shit, that was really unexpected.
I place a hand on my beating heart as the anger in me swells.
I do not like to be stepped on. I know I'm a fucking maid, but don't treat me like shit.
I'm so mad at myself for not doing anything about her. I don't give a fuck that she's got power; I've got two fists and a don't-fuck-with-me attitude.
Stay out of trouble. Don't start anything that'll reveal your identity.
Fuck…
I debate on whether or not to go back to the ball. It's not even close to being over, and I didn't get to do what I set out to do.
Then again, if I go back Tanya might corner me again and I might be forced to gouge her eyeballs out. Or worse, she'd rat me out.
Still torn, I leave the bathroom to find Alice waiting for me in the dim hallway.
"Bella!" she whispers. "What happened in there? I just saw Tanya leave."
"She knows, Alice," I hiss. "She knows about me and the letters."
Alice's eyes go wide. "You're kidding."
I sigh, resigned. "I should probably go back up and turn into Bella again, right?"
Alice looks guilty as she fidgets with a corner of her blazer.
"What is it?"
"Well, Prince Edward was looking for you."
My heart skips a beat. "When? Why?"
"I don't know, but he asked me if I had seen you, but I lied and said I didn't. He looked worried."
Christ…
"Should I go talk to him?" The idea excites me more than it should.
"I don't know…"
The words are barely out of her mouth before I am heading back towards the main hall. The ball is still going on in full swing and I search for the bronze head of hair.
I see him across the room, arm in arm with Tanya, and he is talking to an elderly man. Silently cursing to myself, I keep against the wall and edge my way around the room and people until I'm somewhere he can see me.
I momentarily lose sight of him amongst the crowd, but when I'm standing across the room from him, in plain view, he is alone.
Um, where the hell did Tanya go?
The fact that she isn't anywhere I can see her scares me.
I grab a glass of wine, just so I don't look like an idiot standing there, and sip silently as I wait to catch the prince's eye.
I watch as his eyes roam the room, and my arm twitches as I resist the urge to throw it in the air and start waving at him.
Finally his gaze lands on me, and I raise a brow. You wanted to see me?
His lips stop moving and his brows furrow as it looks like he excuses himself. He starts to make his way across the room and my eyes wander his tall, lean body.
Suddenly there is the screeching of a microphone at a bad angle, and all heads turn to the stage where the orchestra has abruptly stopped playing.
It's Tanya, and I am filled with dread.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please," she says. Her voice is loud and it echoes throughout the room. "I have something very important to bring to your attention."
Oh God, no…
Her head turns in my direction and she points at me from halfway across the room.
"That woman is an imposter!"
FUCK.
I don't know why, but I try to make a run for it. I have only gone a few steps, wine glass still in hand, before my mask is ripped off of me.
I'm screwed.
Big time.
A/N: Oh, the drama. Sometimes it's exactly what you need to move forward. I'm just gonna leave it at that. ;)
Polyvore: Edward, Bella, and Tanya's masquerade ball outfits are all on my profile.
Next Chapter: Tuesday, March 1st
