Smoke and Mirrors
By Alison Harvey
Summary: Long ago, Sarah chose her dreams over Toby, a trap she came
to regret. Now, as a member of the Masquerade Court, she plans an
elaborate revenge against the Goblin King. At stake is the crown of
the Illusion Queen, mistress of Masquerade...
Author's note: Before you read any further, please understand that
this is a J/S story--even if it sounds very different at first. Many
thanks to my beta readers, Arianne and Kat, who convinced me that
this idea would make a decent story. All characters and concepts not
mine are...well, not mine.
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Chapter 1: Encounters
The ballroom of the Masquerade Court was crowded tonight, and schemes
were in full swing. Dancers filled every inch of space with swirling
silk, velvet and satin, overlaid with chiffon, crepe and lace in
wondrous quantities. It was the night of the blue moon, and the
celebration was glorious. Gems sparkled liberally on every fine gown
and well-cut jacket. Dance partners were exchanged with studied
carelessness.
It was the night of the blue moon, where politics were usually set
aside in favor of dancing. That never stopped the Masquerade Court,
famous for their masked intrigues. Take away the masks, the people of
other courts whispered slyly to their fellows, and half the fun would
be gone. Despite the assumed casualness, power plays wove among the
press of dancers: a nod to the left, a whispered word hidden behind a
hand and an abruptly ended conversation testified to the game of
Masquerade.
The ballroom itself was a study in deception. Stairs appeared and
disappeared into nowhere, and periodically doors would shimmer into
existence just long enough to allow a stranger entrance. Now and
then, heralds announced late-arriving guests, but in the chaotic
strands of music, titles had mostly been forgotten. Although the
twirling parade of guests threatened at every moment to overcrowd the
room, the seat of the Masquerade Court held its own. Innocent
archways turned out to be gateways into nooks of jeweled hues and
tables would flicker and disappear on the whim of its occupant. The
air hung heavy with magic, giving the floating fairy lights the
appropriate backdrop.
The dance of the Masquerade Court continued into the night, a
counterpart of whispers and secrets playing to the harmony of the
enchanted string orchestras. They were the people of deception, the
never-ending game. They were the Fae who delighted most in the
political structure inherent in a dance partner and the snap of a
fan. For those of the magical race with a more pragmatic outlook, the
nearby Labyrinth Court and its Goblin King beckoned. Those with no
taste for politics might do well to seek out the Fire or Summer
Courts, perhaps, where beauty and magical talent were favored over
intrigue.
Masquerade was a jewel among the Fae Courts, made deliciously
exciting by its mix of all races, magical and non-magical alike.
Although it was but one of many courts in which the Fae entertained
themselves, it remained a shining star in the aegis of the High King
and Queen of the Underground.
Among the eternally young and beautiful dancers one woman spun, her
hair a rust-red counterpoint to her pale green gown. She wore a dark-
feathered hawk mask with a cruel ripping beak that seemed incongruous
against her blushing cheeks and carmine lips. She flitted through the
crowd with a smile and wink for handsome men and a respectful nod for
those more powerful. Others she treated to the cold silence of
disfavor. She was one dancer among many that night, but there was
something to her imperious stance and confident movements that
suggested high rank.
Under the truthful light of the blue moon, a certain falseness was
apparent in the woman. In the cold blue light, the age-spots of the
green satin were visible, and the glorious red-brown of her hair
struck a false note against her complexion. Her pale eyes seemed
raptor-like beneath her mask as she scanned the merry ballroom. It
was the night of the blue moon, where deception was difficult to
maintain. She was Lady Yasmin of the Masquerade Court, and she knew
the significance of the chill light streaming down outside. Yasmin
had chosen her dance partners carefully.
Upon spotting a blonde Fae woman in a startlingly bright blue gown,
she broke into a warm smile. The other woman was dancing with a
younger man, who seemed startled by the company he was keeping even
as he listened attentively to what she was saying. There was a slight
tension in his shoulders, despite the relaxed attitude of the female
dancer.
Yasmin smiled broadly, signaling her friend with a quick twirl of
her wrist. In response, the other woman came nearer, bringing the
young man with her. She whispered something in his ear, and he turned
slanted blue eyes on Yasmin.
"Yasmin," he said with genuine delight. "I was hoping I'd see you
again tonight."
"My lord Jacopo," she said with a polite nod of her head. "I admit
to coming in hope of dancing with you this evening. Could I possibly
take you from the Lady Elise?"
Lady Elise grinned with the openness of an old friend, an
appropriate description. She had known the younger woman since Yasmin
had entered the Court nine years ago, and much of Yasmin's current
influence could be traced back to Elise's careful lessons. A slight
sagging of the skin at her neck and the creases in her brow above her
mask testified to her age: Elise was Fae, but even the innate youth
and glamour of her race could not conceal the effects of gravity
accumulated during a long life. She was many hundreds of years older
than her human friend, and proud of how she had turned a scared young
woman into a jewel of the Court.
She answered Yasmin's question to Jacopo before he could, satisfied
with their current plan.
"You can take him from me," Elise said lightly, "But I will hold
you to another dance, Jacopo!" She winked at Yasmin where Jacopo
could not see her.
The young lordling was flustered. Just barely into Fae adulthood,
and caught between two powerful women, he clearly wanted to extricate
himself from the older Elise to dance with the young and beautiful
Yasmin. As a Court newcomer, he knew just enough to understand that
to make this preference evident was dangerous, but he was too
inexperienced yet to switch partners gracefully. He smoothed back his
slicked-back hair nervously, catching his hand on the strap that held
his summer mask in place, then ran his hand down his goatee with
painful hesitation. Elise caught Yasmin's eye surreptitiously and
deliberately repositioned her fan close to her chest.
Yasmin laughed and took Jacopo's hands in hers, waving a cheerful
goodbye to Elise as she drew him into the waltz.
"Lord Jacopo," she said warmly. "How are you this evening? Are
you not tired of the dance?"
"Please," he said as he readjusted his hand around her waist more
comfortably. "You should know to call me Jacopo by now."
"Jacopo," Yasmin said cheerfully, slowing her steps so that they
could better talk. "How have you fared tonight, then?"
"Well," he said, giving her a charming grin that he had been told
made him look endearing. She seemed to move closer in response, but
he was having difficulty telling the steps apart from her deliberate
movements. "It was rather boring until Lady Elise rescued me, to be
honest. She wanted to know whether or not I'd made a trip Aboveground
yet."
From the cant of her head, he guessed that this interested her. His
patience was rewarded when she spoke.
"Ah," she said, putting a wealth of possibilities into the
statement. "So you've been Aboveground?"
"I have, milady," he answered, gaining surety as she twirled in his
arms. Yasmin was very beautiful and she had let him dance with her.
As she finished the turn she smiled at him, and he thought he might
drown in her dazzling warmth. The promise this conversation held
suddenly seemed endless. "Father thought that I should understand the
rules of the court and the terms of mortal contact better before he
handed over his duties to me."
"My goodness!" she exclaimed, and Jacopo was pleased with his clever
and subtle words. The ability to breach the realms was one only a few
of their kind possessed and he had reminded her of his power and his
title in one neat stroke. "Your inheritance, Jacopo," she said, as if
she was going to expound on it. Instead, Yasmin laughed. Although he
could not see her eyes, he had heard she was beautiful beneath the
mask. Looking at that full, firm mouth, he believed. "I can't believe
it will be so soon for you!"
Yasmin always talked like this, full of exclamation and sweet
giddiness. When she trickled her compliments from her perfect
reddened lips, people believed that laughing voice. Jacopo smiled
back at her.
"You must be so pleased," she continued blithely. The orchestra had
slowed behind them to a slow song, and he suddenly realized how close
Yasmin was pressed to him, clinging to almost every available square
inch of his waistcoat. It made the conversation deliciously exciting
as she tilted her hawk mask to him. "And how did you like the
Aboveground?" she asked.
Disappointed that she had moved him away from the description of
his titles and land, he nonetheless gave into her curiosity. "It
was...certainly different," he said carefully, unsure of how to
describe the strange world he had seen. "It's hard to breach, first
off--not that I was tired at all in crossing, of course--"
She nodded gravely, and he congratulated himself for his quick
recovery. "They use machinery of course, instead of magic, which
makes it entirely different. It's a bit like the Dwarf Realm, I
suppose."
"What about the people?"
He shrugged, enjoying the quickening pace of their steps and hoping
she never moved from his embrace. "Not much to say. They never see
the Fae, and they hardly believe anymore. There's no fun in it."
"Ah," she said, and he suddenly felt pinned by that hawk mask. "So
you don't have much use for Aboveground women." There was something
calculating in Yasmin's gaze.
He shook his head, suddenly unsure. Did he know the footwork for
the latest tune the band was playing? It sounded foreign in his ears.
"They're interesting, but certainly not like the lovely ladies of
Masquerade." He looked at her with open longing, hoping she would
understand his invitation.
"Mmm," she said, pursing her lips. "A trip Aboveground, your
initiation in two months..." she paused slowly, stilling her steps to
whisper into his ear.
"I believe you need a wife, Jacopo."
"Yes," he said eagerly. "My family has always married Masquerade
women, you know."
She smiled slowly, her eyes glowing behind her mask. "So it's a
woman you're seeking. That's why you've been to the Court so often!"
She sounded very pleased with her discovery.
"Yes, of course, Lady Yasmin," he said patiently, waiting for her
to answer his invitation. "But as you pointed out, I need a wife
soon. My father told me not to come home without one, in fact."
"Oh dear. So my favorite courtier is pressed for time as well?" The
tune had ended, and the dancers had started to drift towards the ever-
full tables. She tugged at the sleeve of his doublet to lead him
towards one of the centermost, and he eagerly followed. He hurried to
catch up and link his arm with hers, but she settled instead for
lightly touching her gloved fingertips to his as he led her to what
he knew was his table.
"I was hoping you could help," he said before they could reach the
rowdy throng. He held his breath as he waited for her answer.
"I'm flattered," she whispered back, sending his pulse racing. "In
fact, I think I have a solution for you."
They had almost reached the table, where two empty seats waited.
Jacopo recognized the Lady Elise, who was talking to an unknown young
woman who wore a dark green dress with a fashionable low cut
neckline. A cunning basilisk mask hid her face, but he was more
interested in the woman on his arm.
Just short of Elise, they stopped, and suddenly he found Yasmin
pressed once more to him, her arms thrown around his neck, bringing
his nose down into the feathers of her forehead. Her perfume made his
head spin.
"You want a wife?"
"Yes."
"And you think that I can help?"
"I wouldn't ask anyone else."
"Are you sure?" she asked coquettishly, and he laughed.
"I promise. I'm asking you now. My word and honor."
Yasmin smiled, and he noticed for the first time that her eyes were
dark and kohl-rimmed behind her mask. "Your word and honor, sir. Then
it is done."
Elation bubbled up through him, and it was only her arms that kept
him close and not dancing in celebration. Vaguely, through his
giddiness, he heard her voice whispering to him once more.
"Her name is Felicite, and she is the daughter of Eleanor's most
senior lady-in-waiting."
Confused, he turned to see that she was referring to the basilisk
woman. "Really? A lady of the Elf-Queen herself? I'm impressed."
"Good," Yasmin said. "She's perfect for you. As a Count of
Labyrinth, you need ties to other courts. She's used to elves; she'll
bring a touch of class to your manor."
He froze. "That's not what I meant." All the lightness drained, and
suddenly her circling arms were a noose, strangling him.
"Your honor, milord, and your word. You asked me to find you a wife."
"That's not who I wanted," Jacopo said, frantically trying to
extricate himself from the situation. He squirmed in her grip, but
she held fast.
"Jacopo, really," she chided. "People will start to wonder." The
high crest of her mask hid his reaction from the rest of the court,
but his stiffness would soon cause a stir in the gossip-hungry crowd.
"I want you to marry me, not some elf-bred woman," he said
determinedly.
"I don't marry."
"But I love you!"
That caused a reaction, but not the one he was expecting. She
immediately extricated herself from his grasp, turning statue like in
front of him. "Love has nothing to do with marriage. Or with
Masquerade. She's good for you, Count."
Her sudden distance hurt him more than her polite rejection had,
and forced him to consider what she had said. As a new lord, he
needed ties to strengthen his personal domain. His father, the Revels
Count, had been an isolationist, but the world of the Fae was
changing. He needed trade ties. Revelia, a small province of
Masquerade, had an abundance of ores and raw materials, but
desperately needed finished goods. The daughter of an important lady-
in-waiting to the Elf-Queen would give him a much-needed advantage
when the annual trade negotiations with the elves came around.
She would also give his manor, as Yasmin had said, a touch of
class. Yasmin was important in Masquerade, and very beautiful, but
her political connections were unguessed-at and he had never heard of
any particular dowry or title associated with her. No one had ever
mentioned what gave her the title of Lady, but no one saw fit to
challenge it, either. The marriage she had proposed to him, in fact,
made perfect sense, with the exception of the fact that he wanted the
woman on his arm, not the one even now laughing with Lady Elise. What
made the whole deliberation interesting was that Yasmin herself did
not want an alliance with a lord that would surely increase her
social standing--her currency was not land-based, as far as he could
tell, and to obtain a lord would give her legitimacy in the
Masquerade Court.
The woman in question studied him with alert eyes. "Have you
figured it out yet?"
"Why don't you want my title?"
Yasmin shrugged. "You'll thank me for this someday, soon." She was
careful to leave a respectful distance this close to Felicite, Jacopo
noted cynically.
Something else occurred to him. "How, exactly, will I want to thank
you?" He had the satisfaction of catching a slight expression of
surprise in her eyes before they returned to normal.
"Well, for now, I'll settle for you taking advantage of your
connections to push for free trade between Revelia and the elven
lands."
"This is what I would have done anyway."
"But just remember as you dance with your lovely bride-to-be
tonight what I did for you."
As she drew him forward to meet the Lady Elise and Felicite, he
wondered what it would cost him. However, Yasmin had already faded
away, her presence dimming as he gazed at the basilisk mask and
smiled charmingly. Instead, trade contracts and elvish considerations
filled his mind as he bowed low to Felicite.
"I see we meet again, Lady Elise. May I ask who your lovely
companion is?"