The Masquerade Ball was underway.
She'd made them late again. Annette apologised as she wrapped her arm around Mercedes' own, the two beginning to climb the stone steps towards the building, the late night air pressing in all around them and threatening to make them shiver.
"Are you scared?" Mercedes gave a chuckle as they grew closer to the Great Hall.
"No!" Annette said through chattering teeth. "Why would I be?"
It was at that moment that small snowflakes began to fall, landing softly in Annette's hair. Fhirdiad in summertime was not nearly as brutal as it was in the winter - the winds less frigid, and weather much calmer - but still the Holy Kingdom could not fend off the snow.
"I know you've been anxious about this for a while," Mercedes said.
It was true. Annette had never been the most confident at the best of times, but an event so prestigious had turned her stomach to ice every time she'd thought about it. She tried to fend off her nerves, however - shaking her worries from her mind and clinging closer to Mercedes. She was determined to enjoy this event - especially after being too frightened to attend all the years before.
The two women walked past countless party-goers. Men and women stood in strange masks - masquerade masks, all different and brightly-coloured. Some that covered the whole face, while others wore eye masks, and their wearers stood chattering upon the stairs, smoking from long pipes and drinking from decorative glasses.
Yet, one of them caught Annette's eye.
Who was he?
He stood, arms folded, at the side of the door. The dark-haired man in the plain suit - a black jacket, white shirt, and pure black cravat. Annette found her breath pulled from her lungs at the very sight of him; he was ethereal. With hair that glowed azure beneath the candle-light, and a slim, lean form, the young woman could not take her eyes away from him.
The mask he wore was pale silver, and as plain as his suit. Nothing fancy adorned it - no patterns, nor bursts of colour - but it was crafted beautifully into the shape of a wolf's face; short muzzle, two upright ears, and narrowed windows for his eyes.
And, oh, those eyes. Annette shuddered as she watched his gaze fall upon her - felt the two pools of molten gold bore into her own.
Yet, just as quickly as they'd locked eyes, the man looked away, leaving Annette and Mercedes to pass by him on their way up the stairs. But Annette found her heart pounding. Never before had she seen somebody so captivating, despite his face being almost entirely covered. "Who was that?" she asked Mercedes once he was safely out of earshot.
"In the wolf mask?" Mercedes looked over her shoulder at him. "I don't recognise him…?"
Upon reaching the entrance, however, butlers dressed in black suits with plain white masks demanded their attention. Their cloaks were taken, allowing the chilly air of Fhirdiad to creep against their skin as Mercedes handed in their invitations.
The butlers were eerily silent as they swept around the women, gently frisking them to make sure they held no weapons. When they spoke, it almost made Annette jump. "Masks on, please, Miss Dominic and Miss von Martritz."
Mercedes gave a giggle as the two walked onwards, passing through a beautiful corridor to reach the party within. "They even know us by name! I feel rather fancy."
Annette agreed as a huge set of mahogany doors were opened in front of them to reveal the Hall itself - the beautiful, large, circular room. Countless crystal chandeliers hung upon its ceiling, mimicking the icicles outside that clung to every roof; within, hundreds of candles burned, casting a warming orange glow across the wood-panelled walls, and reflecting brightly across the marble flooring.
Most breathtaking, however, were the people inside. Beautiful robes, dresses, and suits met the eyes of the two women in every colour and material imaginable. So grandiose did each guest look, dancing in their twirling skirts upon a dance-floor, that Annette felt rather unworthy. She'd worn her favourite dress: a gown of pale orange that she felt matched her hair. In comparison to what she saw, though - silks embroidered with lace, and plush velvet blazers - she felt thoroughly lacklustre. Her heart sunk a little lower in her chest as she realised…
She was far out of her depth here.
A naive young girl swept up in the grandeur of Faerghus' Annual Masquerade Ball, with only a plain orange dress to show for it. Oh, no, she thought, feeling her chest begin to ache in worry and embarrassment.
Mercedes slipped her mask out of a pocket of her dress, a beautiful gold eye-mask with blue accents, with two small decorations at the top that mimicked the ears of cats. Once she tied the ribbons at the back, and turned to Annette with a small smile, it was clear that the rest of the mask had been decorated to appear feline as well: blue markings made wings around her eyes, copying a cat's signature slyness, and small whiskers had been painted elegantly upon it.
"You look wonderful," Annette breathed, pulling out her own mask and looking down at it in dismay. Her mask, in similar fashion to Mercedes', was also designed like an animal. A rabbit. It was plain grey, with no elaborate patterning, but with two long ear-like decorations atop it making it distinctively bunny-esque.
At the time, she'd thought it was cute - sweet. Now, however, looking at the feather-adorned, jewel-studded masks of the other dancers, Annette felt almost foolish.
"Shall we dance?" Mercedes asked, helping Annette to tie her own ribbon behind her head.
Yet, the young red-head could not quell the bubbling anxiety from curdling within her stomach. "Oh, I don't know, Mercie…"
"Come on, Annie," her friend said, with encouragement. "You said you were going to enjoy yourself no matter what!" She pressed a hand against Annette's back, guiding her towards the rest of the dancing party guests.
Trying to distract herself, Annette allowed herself to be danced with - followed Mercedes' lead to the slow rhythm of the music. Her mind continued to wander, however.
Wandering to the Wolf. The man outside, with his piercing eyes and almost bored gait. How could she have been so enthralled without even seeing his face? His body was beautiful enough - not too tall, nor too muscular, and lacking the cockiness than accompanied many of the people who'd tried to court her before.
Her eyes scanned the crowds. Men and women danced together, dressed in blue and red and green. Some wore black, and others white, but none of them wore the mask of a wolf's face, nor had hair of striking cobalt that had shone so beautifully beneath the light of the moon. Many of the men caught her eye, but their own irises could never match the gold that had bored into her soul outside the Hall.
A familiar figure approached. Annette saw Sylvain, dressed in emerald that complimented his hair wonderfully, who came to ask Mercedes for a dance. The woman made to protest, but, encouraged by Annette, eventually took the Gautier's hand and found herself twirled into the crowd.
And Annette was alone. She became almost panicked, suddenly - feeling claustrophobic with the bodies pressing in all around her. Her plain clothes, her silly mask, and now her lonesomeness all piled up within the girl, weighing on her chest and causing her to step backwards away from the dance-floor.
That was, until she felt a hand around hers. Letting out a gasp, Annette turned to find herself face-to-face with—
The Wolf. The lupine mask and amber eyes that glowed out from beneath it stood over her, causing her heart to leap and a lump to form in her throat.
Yet, when the man spoke, his voice was as soft as velvet - a voice that contrasted sharply with the hardness of his eyes: "Want to dance?"
Annette felt a hot sweat rush through her despite the fact that chills had begun to prickle her skin.
"Wh… Why?" she asked, a little foolishly.
He merely cocked his head, keeping those golden eyes locked onto hers. "Do you want to, or not?"
Annette swallowed, the chill beginning to creep down her spine. She looked around herself - eyes scouring the bodies of strangers in an attempt to find Mercedes. To no avail. Now, it was just her and the Wolf. Despite her nerves, and her rising feelings of inadequacy, she heard herself speak. "Yes. I… would."
Her hand was squeezed, the Wolf turned, and Annette was whisked off her feet as he began to walk to a quiet edge of the dance-floor.
"Everybody else here is so fancy," the man said once they'd joined hands, beginning to sway together. He pressed himself closer, and Annette felt her cheeks begin to heat. "Embellished. Diamond-encrusted. False. But… not you."
Her voice sounded quiet. "I feel boring."
"Boring?" The Wolf's voice was smiling. "Far from it."
What was happening? Annette had never felt so… blindly attracted to somebody before. She found it hard to take her eyes away from the beautiful gold that stared down at her, glinting with hints of hickory beneath the candles that surrounded them.
The man raised a hand, tucking a strand of Annette's hair behind her ear with delicate fingers. "You almost seem like you don't belong here."
While usually she might have been offended by such a comment, it was so true that she let out a small giggle. "I feel so out of place!"
"Damn," the Wolf's voice smiled once more. "I couldn't agree more." He did not give her much time to respond, however, before his free hand reached the back of his head, untying the ribbon that sat against his stunningly blue hair. When his hand came away, the mask came with it, revealing his face to her at last.
And Annette had to take a breath. His every feature was fine - with narrow eyelids and sharp eyebrows - a round face despite a slightly pointed chin, and skin of ivory.
He was beautiful.
"I'm Felix. You?"
She was blushing almost like a child, feeling her lips so twisted in attraction and excitement and nerves that she almost forgot to answer. "I'm… Annette."
"Annette. What do you say we get out of here?" Felix's thin lips became a smirk.
In response, Annette felt almost dizzy with excitement. With another giggle, she found herself agreeing.