Disclaimer: Obsidian owns everybody but Kayla. They are responsible for none of this, however.
Kayla locked the door behind herself and opened up her clothing chests. Decisions, decisions. She could wear her new gown again. It was the best she owned, and it was certainly suitable for the Moonstone Mask, but she'd just worn it the night before. It was another warm night, so maybe she'd wear the yellow, instead.
She laced up the gown and pulled a chair over to the dressing table. She'd worn her hair in braids, that day, but it was still clean. She'd only washed it the day before, so she could get away with wearing it loose tonight, and the braids would have soaked up some of the damp sea air and set her hair in waves as they dried.
Her hair would look nice, at least, but her face... As usual, she looked at her reflection in her mirror and wished there was something she could do about her pallor. She'd managed to find a replacement for Elanee's malodorous ointment at Sand's shop. It had no scent at all, so she used it every time she went out of doors, to prevent freckles and burning, but it left her looking rather wan. Some women used rouge, she knew, and she had experimented with it once or twice, but it was all too dark for her, and made her look feverish... or lewd. She pulled the rouge pot out and stared at it again. Maybe it was just too concentrated? She wondered what would happen if she cut it with Sand's sunburn cream.
She put a dab of both on her palm and mixed them together, then applied a little very sparingly to her cheeks. Success! And to think, it had only taken her a couple months to come up with that solution.
She thought about putting some on her lips as well, but she did not know what was in either Sand's ointment or the rouge, and she would be eating and drinking tonight. It was probably better not to experiment, there, at least until she had spoken with Sand.
So... if I mix the ointment with the rouge, and it turns out well, what would happen if I mixed it with the kohl?
Empirical testing revealed that the result of that mixture would be unbearable pain and uncontrollable watering of her eyes. She immediately wiped it off, and even washed her eyes, but they still burned.
Lesson learned, she thought.
Once again, she looked at her reflection. Her eyes were now redder than her cheeks, and her pupils had grown to enormous size, as if she had used an infusion of belladonna water in them. Her irises were nothing but a thin line of brown around a pair of blown-out pupils, and the dimly lit room suddenly appeared far brighter.
You wanted to look interesting and mysterious, she told herself. Mission accomplished. You also look like you spent the afternoon eating lotus, but what price is that to pay for a little drama?
In the common room, she made her excuses to her uncle.
"That's all right, Kayla," he said, "but... are you all right? You look a little odd."
"I got a whiff of a bad potion," she lied. "It will pass."
"If you're sure," he sounded unconvinced, but he did not try to stop her.
Most of her friends were already gathered in the common room. Bishop was back, she discovered, and was currently trying to get in Shandra's good graces, or at least her gown. He, too, seemed to find mulberry a good choice for blondes.
On learning that they planned to go to the Moonstone Mask for dinner that evening, he was only too eager to accompany them. Neeshka protested, saying he was not there when they had won the gold, so she would not pay for his dinner, but he laughed it off, saying that he would pay his own way, if he had to, as he had just won a fat purse off "some of Neverwinter's finest, the idiots."
She'd hoped to be able to make him stay home on account of his dress, but he had returned to the Flagon some hours before, and had already bathed and changed into something presentable.
"You look ravishing, Princess," Bishop leered, having failed to seduce Shandra. "And perhaps I might. You wouldn't mind, would you, Princess?"
"Keep your distance, Bishop," Casavir said forbiddingly.
"Maybe a little," Bishop drawled, "but by the looks of things, the lady likes what she sees. Maybe we'll find out how much, after His Holiness is nodding over his cups."
"Come on, Cas," Kayla sighed, taking his arm, "It's almost time to meet Cormick. Let's wait for him outside."
To be perfectly honest, the candlelight of the Flagon was a bit much for her to bear, with her eyes still smarting from her failed attempt at cosmetic enhancement.
She felt something prickling at the edges of her awareness, the feather-soft brush of divine power, it might have been. She looked at Casavir in alarm. He was looking at her intently, his expression concerned.
"What are you doing, Cas?" she asked him.
"Forgive me, my lady," he stammered. "I was unaware that you could sense my intent. There is something wrong with your eyes, my lady. Are you certain that you took no injury today? I would not put it past pirates to poison their blades."
Kayla groaned. She could lie to Duncan, but she could not lie to Casavir.
"If I'm poisoned," she said, "I did it myself. No, Casavir, I'm all right, really. If you must know, I tried mixing a little of that ointment Sand made up for us with kohl, and it did not go so well."
He turned her to face him and took both her hands in one of his own. With the other, he tilted her face up toward his own. She blinked in the candlelight, but he looked intently at her face. Very gently, he touched her cheek where she had applied the diluted rouge.
"My lady, you should not," he said softly. "No art of man may improve on what the gods themselves have graced you with."
His words might be taken to mean that she was a lost cause, but Kayla was fairly sure he meant it as a compliment. She kissed his hand, and smiled at the blush that crept into his cheeks.
"Can we wait outside, Cas?" she asked. "The light hurts my eyes a bit."
"Should you not rather remain here, my lady?" he asked. "You might darken your room, and I could bring you your dinner there. I would be pleased to keep you company... while you eat, my lady."
"Thanks, Casavir," she smiled, "but I think Neeshka is really looking forward to this. She's been dying for a night out, and I don't want to disappoint her. I'll be all right, really."
"If you are certain... " he sounded unconvinced, "but speak the word, and I shall accompany you back here instantly."
She nodded.
Yes, Cas, I'm certain you would, she thought. You would seize any opportunity to get out of going to the Mask. But it's good for you, to see that all is not the cesspit you imagine it to be.
Cormick looked magnificent. Kayla had never seen him in anything but his watch uniform or casual tunics, but tonight, he wore a wine-colored silk doublet and doeskin hose that emphasized his muscular legs.
"It's nice to see you out of uniform," she complimented him. "You should dress up more often."
"This will be my last night on the town for quite some time," he said, "so I thought I'd make the most of it. You look lovely, Kayla. Have you done something different with your hair?"
"No," she murmured, "but thanks."
"My lady?" Casavir was at her side, offering her an arm. "The cobblestones are slick, this evening, and I should not want you to lose your footing."
Is he going to treat me like an invalid all night? Still, he means well.
When they got to the Moonstone Mask, Kayla could hardly see, the room was so bright. For a moment, she considered taking Casavir up on his offer to escort her home, but he insisted on a table in private parlor, and went around blowing out candles until Qara threatened to set the tablecloth on fire if he extinguished one more.
"What's the matter with you, Cas?" Khelgar rumbled. "You know you can't see in the dark."
"I fear my lady has taken too much sun today," he said simply. Kayla stared at him. That was a deliberate lie, she knew, but she was grateful for it. The last thing she wanted was to draw more attention to her earlier lapse in judgment.
They talked about pleasant, inconsequential things while they ate. They did not have Casavir's lamb tonight, but they did offer a luxurious platter of shellfish in cream sauce and what tasted like the same sparkling wine Kayla had bought for their picnic. Elanee had accompanied them tonight, to Kayla's surprise, but their hosts were more than happy to accommodate her preferences.
"What's that?" Kayla asked her.
"It's supposed to be from Sembia," Elanee said. "Risotto, I think, the waiter called it. It's rice, mushrooms, and cheese, and very, very tasty. Would you like to try some?"
Kayla accepted a taste, but she did not share Elanee's enthusiasm for it. Given a choice between rice and barley, Kayla would choose the barley.
A trio of musicians entertained them for a while, and by the time they were done, the room was starting to look dark.
"Shall we go out into the lounge?" Kayla asked Neeshka.
"Are you recovered, my lady?" Casavir asked her softly.
"I think so," she said. She felt something brush her knee. Casavir was fumbling for her hand under the table, and sqeezed her leg, by mistake. She placed her hand on his, and he took it quickly. His hand shook, she noticed. She looked at his face, but her vision had improved to the point where she could not see his expression in the darkness. The intimacy of the contact must have unsettled him, she decided, though it had been unintentional.
The lounge was an oasis of light and music. Neeshka immediately claimed Khelgar for a dance, and Shandra walked out onto the floor on Grobnar's arm... or more appropriately, his shoulder.
"May I?" Cormick asked.
"Do you mind, Casavir?" she asked him. He had been so solicitous of her comfort that it seemed rude to dismiss him, now that she was feeling better.
"Not at all, my lady," he assured her. "I should prefer to watch."
Cormick led her through the first set in silence, but after a few moments, he cleared his throat.
"How is Casavir?" he asked her.
"He's fine, I think," Kayla answered, a bit confused by the question. "He's never sick, if that's what you mean."
"I was asking more about the two of you," he said. "Any changes?"
Kayla blushed. Cormick might indeed be curious about that.
"I'm not really sure," Kayla admitted. "We went out for a picnic and a walk last night, and it was certainly special, but it's so hard to tell with Cas. We didn't... er..."
"It's all right, Kayla," he said calmly, "I said I'd dance at your wedding, and I still mean it. If things are getting more serious between you, I'll be the first in line to shake his hand."
"That's the thing, Cormick," she said, "I don't think they are getting more serious. I mean, we had a wonderful time last night. I won't lie about that, but it was really just... it's hard to explain. He's kind to everyone, you know, and while it's possible that there might be more someday, it doesn't look like it's going to happen any time soon. Is that making sense?"
"You could just up and ask him," he suggested.
"No, I don't think I could," she said.
Cormick looked at her, an amused, knowing expression on his face.
I hear your thoughts, Harborman, Kayla mused. "This from the girl who damn near jumped me in the common room of my own tavern."
"He isn't ready," she said. Cormick's fingers tightened on the hand he held.
"One day at a time, right, Kayla?" he said.
"Yes," she replied.
Casavir sipped his wine. He had not wanted to go out tonight at all. He had wanted to spend a quiet evening at the Flagon, listening to The Lady talk. Had he been allowed that, he would have been more than content. Yet Neeshka would not be dissuaded, and The Lady would humor her friend.
When he perceived that The Lady was unwell, he was even less enthusiastic about taking her away from the comforts of home. He urged her to remain behind, and let him entertain her, to the best of his abilities, but she would not hear of it.
Why had she done such a foolish thing in the first place? She needed no paint to be beautiful, and the mask of her cosmetics hid the translucent perfection of her skin.
He took another sip.
She was dancing now. He could watch her forever, so graceful was she. She danced with Cormick, so he need not fear for her virtue in that company. He might ask her later, though he doubted he would. It was too pleasant sitting here, watching her sleek body move with the music. The sight stirred him, but in this place, who would know or care? He need not fear The Lady's eyes on him, as she was caught up in the dance. He slid forward a bit in his armchair, to allow more ease in his leggings. He should probably get up and walk it off, but his doublet hid the worst of it, and he was comfortable.
The chink of silver against crystal announced the presence of the waiter, refilling his glass. He thanked the man, and took another drink. How many was it?
She danced with Grobnar, now, in a livelier dance that brought a smile to her lips... and that made her breasts sway in time to the music. He slid forward a little more, and took another sip of his wine. He should have a care that he did not overindulge again. He felt mellow, perhaps, but he was still far from drunk... though the distance was closing. He put the glass down. It took two tries.
Once more, she danced with Cormick. It was something slower, more exotic. He did not know the dance, but he was glad to watch it, nonetheless. Cormick's arm was about her waist, and he faced her as they danced. Casavir could easily imagine himself in Cormick's place, with her lithe body pressed against him.
That was too much. Now, he really did need to get up and walk it off.
"Hello, handsome," a sultry voice breathed from a doorway. "Why don't you come here and let me sing you a lullaby?"
A young woman beckoned. She was voluptuous to the point of plumpness, with an enormous bosom that was only partially veiled by the silk scarf around her shoulders. Even as his mind recoiled at her lewdness, his body responded to her invitation... and her lush, ample charms. He fled.
He took several deep, steadying breaths, but they were not enough to dispel his arousal. He was at the doorway to the dining parlor they had used earlier. Here, he might regain his composure without distraction.
He was not alone.
"Casavir?" Shandra asked. She stood with her back to him, her gown partially unlaced.
"Forgive me, Shandra," he said quickly. "I am sorry to have disturbed you."
"No, Cas," she said. "It's all right. It's just that it's a new gown, and... well, there was still a pin in it, so I unlaced the gown to take the pin out, and now I can't get it laced up again. Er... would you...?"
"Should I rather not call one of the ladies to you, or a maid?" he asked, very aware of his condition.
"Why bother?" she asked. "It will only take a moment."
His hands shook, but he attempted it.
Perhaps it was the wine he had drunk, or the ache that still burned in his nethers, but when his fingers touched the laces of Shandra's gown, it was The Lady whose gown he touched, and The Lady whose slender neck enticed him.
Groaning, he bent to kiss that neck. Her answering moan fueled his passion, and he turned her to face him. He kissed her hungrily, as if he could devour her. She answered eagerly, licking his lips and sliding her hands down his back to caress his buttocks. He pulled her hard against his body. She gasped at the feel of his arousal, but he was too far gone to stop now. His hands moved over her breasts, exposing them. She cried out as he pinched her nipple, but he soothed it with kisses, and she moaned. She breathed now in sharp little gasps, and her hand inched around his hip, pausing only a moment before she stroked him. Her caress made his knees weak, but he fought to maintain control long enough to undo his leggings.
He heard a click behind him and turned at the sound. Cormick's grim face was framed by the partially opened door. The face retreated and the door closed.
"I'll come back for your cloak later, Kayla," he heard Cormick say, "the room is in use, right now."
"I'm worried about him, Cormick," he heard The Lady respond. "Cas doesn't like crowds, and he didn't want to come here in the first place. Do you think he went back to the Flagon by himself?"
"Maybe," he thought Cormick sounded bleak. "Here, you can wear my cloak. I'll walk you back."
"I won't just leave him here, if he got lost!" The Lady sounded outraged, but when she spoke again, her voice was calmer. "You go. I'll wait here, and maybe ask around. Somebody must have seen him."
"No, Kayla," Cormick said firmly. "Khelgar, please walk Kayla back to the Flagon. I'll wait here myself. The Mask might be better than it was, but it's still no place for a lady to stay unaccompanied."
"Are you sure you don't mind?" The Lady asked.
"Yes, I'm sure I don't mind," Cormick said. "I'll wait in the common room, and if he isn't back in half a candle, I'll start making inquiries."
"Thank you," The Lady said. "Have you seen Shandra, by the way? I haven't seen her in a while, either."
"Yes, I saw her," Cormick said. "I believe she had some adjustment to make on her gown. I will escort her back when she's done."
"Good man, Cormick," Khelgar's rumbled thanks drowned out The Lady's. "Come on, Neesh. Party's over."
Casavir's heart froze. He turned to face his sin.
Shandra stood in front of him, pulling her gown back up around her shoulders. She looked at him in confusion.
Casavir slumped against the wall and sank to the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest, buried his face in his hands, and wept.
Shandra knelt beside him. She put a hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off.
"What just happened?" she asked.
"I have just made the biggest mistake of my life," he groaned. He dragged his knuckles across his eyes and tried to compose himself.
"I don't understand," she said.
"Forgive me, Shandra," he said. His throat still felt tight, but it should. It should be tight enough to strangle him. "I have just assaulted you."
"Um... no, you didn't," she replied. "I wanted you to do that."
"But I did not," he moaned. "Do you not understand? I did not want to do that with you. I wanted... someone else, but my lust was enough to blind me."
"Oh," Shandra sank to the floor beside him. "Well, that's a bit of a let down."
"I am truly sorry," he said.
"Yeah," she said, "I'm getting that. It doesn't help."
Casavir sat with his arms around his knees, staring at a table leg. Shandra wanted reassurance, he knew, but he could not give it. He had come upon her here, half mad with desire, and he had imposed himself upon her, wishing she was The Lady. Shandra, meanwhile, had yielded to him knowing full well who he was. Barely a day before, he had told her that he did not welcome her attention, and tonight, he had allowed... nay, encouraged... her to stroke him. Yesterday, he had thought her a slut for staring at his buttocks, but today, he had tasted her breast. He buried the heels of his hands in his eyes.
"Shandra," he said at last, "please understand... it is not you. You are a desirable, beautiful woman... "
"But not the one you want," she finished for him. He nodded miserably. "Do you have a brother?"
He blinked at her. Was that an attempt to cheer him?
"I do," he said, "but he is a thief, if he lives."
"Sounds perfect," Shandra laughed. "Come on, do up my gown. Cormick is waiting for us in the lounge."
Casavir groaned. Cormick. The Harborman, her friend, had seen everything. He had seen him with his head back against the paneling, moaning in rapture, with her mouth on his throat and her hands on his naked... great Tyr, what had he done?
He sobered. Whatever he had done, he might have done worse. Were it not for Cormick's arrival, he would have taken Shandra. He shuddered at how close he had come to...
He would have Fallen. Had he taken Shandra then, he would have violated his oaths, and betrayed his calling.
"Er... Cas?" Shandra asked in concern. "Are you having a fit or something?"
He was shaking so badly, he could hardly answer her.
"Shandra," he gasped, "I have taken vows against what I have just done."
"You stopped in time, right?" she asked.
"Yes," he breathed, calming, "though only barely."
"Then don't worry about it," she shrugged. "Listen, Cas, the important thing is that you stopped in time. And it's a good thing, too, because you don't want to Fall, and I don't want to lie with a man who's thinking about somebody else. Thanks for that, by the way. I sure as hells don't want you now."
Cormick was sitting in Casavir's armchair when they reached the lounge, with his booted legs up on a footstool, smoking a pipe and drinking wine. He gestured them to two nearby armchairs.
"All done?" he asked once Casavir and Shandra had seated themselves.
"It wasn't what you're thinking," Shandra said quickly, at the same moment as Casavir said "We are not lovers."
"I'm not the one you should be talking to," Cormick said. "On second thought, maybe I am, because I sure as hells don't want her to find out what I just walked in on."
Casavir stared at him. It was too much to hope that The Lady should not discover his guilt, but Cormick offered silence.
"Listen," Cormick said, "I don't much care what you two do behind closed doors, but -"
"I say again, Shandra is not my lover," Casavir said firmly. "It was a moment of madness, nothing more. I regret that you should have seen what you did, but I am thankful that your arrival prevented greater folly."
"Like I said," Cormick went on, unperturbed, "what you do is your business, but Casavir... if you aren't going to court her, stop leading her on. She's a fine woman, and I don't want to see her hurt."
"It's all right, Cormick," Shandra said, reaching out and patting his arm, "we're past that, though it's a sweet thought."
"I wasn't talking about you," Cormick said. Shandra rolled her eyes and sighed.
"I'm getting that a lot lately," she said.
"I shall take what you say to heart," Casavir said solemnly.
"Come on," Cormick said. "She left her cloak in the room. Get it, and we'll be leaving."
Casavir walked in silence back to the Sunken Flagon, with The Lady's cloak draped over his arm. He had passed a mirror, on the way out of the Mask, and had seen the welt Shandra's mouth had left on his neck. He could hardly breathe, with the weight of his guilt upon him, and there was no way to lessen it, this time. He must confess or he must lie. Neither option left him with much hope.
Kayla waited anxiously back at the Sunken Flagon. Half a candle had passed, and still, Casavir had not returned, or Cormick with Shandra. Khelgar told her not to fret, that they were probably just having one for the road before coming back, but she did not really believe him.
Finally, the door opened, and Cormick, Casavir and Shandra all walked through.
Kayla threw herself at Casavir and took his hand.
"I'm sorry, Cas!" she said breathlessly. "I didn't want to leave you there, but everybody wanted to leave, and we couldn't find you. Cormick said I couldn't wait for you, so he waited, and I came back here. Are you all right?"
He shook his head and blinked at her.
"Forgive me, my lady," he said. Kayla thought his voice sounded thick. "I was lost."
"See, Cormick!" she rounded on the marshal. "I told you he just took a wrong turn."
"I'll say he did," Cormick agreed.
"Er... I guess you went somewhere you weren't supposed to go?" she asked apologetically. He would be rattled, had he walked in on some of the services the Mask provided, in the privacy of its back rooms.
"You might say that," Cormick answered for him. Casavir looked faint.
"Come on, Cas," she said, taking his hand again, "sit down at the table and let me get you an ale. I won't make you go back there again, I promise."
"Thank you, my lady," he said, taking his hand back, "but I should rather retire."
He handed her the cloak and trudged off toward the stair. He paused, and looked back at her, his face unreadable, then continued heavily up the stair.
"How about you, Shandra?" she asked. "Cormick said you had something wrong with your dress."
"Yeah," Shandra sighed, sitting down in the chair, "but it's fixed now."
"That's good," Kayla said. "Sorry for dashing off without warning you, but Cormick said he'd walk you home."
"That's OK," Shandra replied. "It took quite a while to get everything sorted."
Kayla poured ale for herself, Shandra, Cormick, and Khelgar, then sat at the table with them.
"Are you all right, Cormick?" she asked. "You don't look like you had a lot of fun, tonight."
"I had a marvelous time dancing with you ladies," he said to herself and Shandra, "but I've got a bit of a headache now. I don't think I'll stay out much later, tonight."
"Well, thanks for seeing everyone home," she said, feeling rather confused.
Cormick got up and left his untouched ale on the table. Shandra drank her own, and Cormick's, too, then bid Kayla good night and went up to her room.
"We should have stayed home," Khelgar grumbled. "I'm going to bed."
Kayla sat alone at the table, looking at the stairs and wondering what in the nine hells had just happened.