-III-
Fancy Viels
Among the distant tides
an echo of lilies bide
at Asterye (Castle)
10 years ago
When Arielle first opened her eyes after her fall, the stark lights blaring down the ceiling like rays of sunlight bringing life to the earth blinded her vision. She squeezed her eyes shut and basked in the darkness, oblivious to her surroundings.
A while later, Arielle shifted her body in discomfort, adjusting her gaze to the stark lights above her and naturally moved her head to the side to avoid them.
At first glance, the sight before her was white, bare and soulless. She stared across the room and found herself in a hauntingly barren room with an olive wooden table beside the bed, a painting of a garden flower on her side wall and open windows to her right.
She blinked again, trying to process the white space.
Did she die? Was this the entrance to the afterlife? Or perhaps this was some gateway to paradise?
Eyes flitting around the room, Arielle tried to piece together her present predicament with dread filling her heart. Her frantic thoughts made her frown, though she was sure that the possibility of her parting ways with life this early was impossible. She was only eleven with a lively body. The idea of meeting her end by falling into some fountain was unfathomable and— Arielle turned her attention back to the bright ceiling.
Maybe, her father left her alone in some hospital.
Just as Arielle was about to open her mouth, a sweet floral scent wafted the room like poppies in season, tickling her senses and causing her to cough aloud. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand to suppress the sound of a heavy cough and was surprised to see blood stains.
With a deepening frown, she wondered if she really was alive and well.
Her senses functioned close to standard, and other than the fact that she could barely move with an exhausted body, Arielle decided it'd be best to remain in bed and wait for her father. He always did return to her side during their travels out.
Father would never leave me.
Her childlike thoughts soon vanished at the appearance of a nursemaid rushing to her bed.
"Princess!"
Arielle lifted herself in instinct and felt an unfamiliar hint of ache striking her mind and ears with a ringing sound of bells. Wincing, she fell back onto the bed and curled herself to the side, holding on to her head.
"Princess, you shouldn't move."
The nursemaid held onto her hand as if to soothe the pain. "Breathe, Princess. You have to take it slowly."
Arielle latched onto the warm hand and waited for the pain to subside. Her ragged breaths soon withered at light taps from the nursemaid.
"That's right, my dear. Don't worry about anything else."
The whispers of the nurse soothed her aching mind and alleviated her shallow breaths. Listening to the quiet voice, the thrilling sound in her head faded away, and Arielle breathed out in relief, closing her eyes.
"Princess?"
Princess? Arielle immediately released her grip on the nursemaid's hand and sprang up.
Why was this woman calling her a princess?
Tugging onto her velvet duvet, Arielle drew her mouth into a straight line to stop the quivering, then bit onto her lips.
"Princess?"
Again, the nursemaid repeated the odd title at Arielle with a hint of unease deep in her gaze and concern in her tone. Gasping for air, Arielle held onto the duvet as a shield to stop the nursemaid from coming any closer.
"Princess, you need to calm down," the nursemaid warned, reaching out to a terrified Arielle.
"Leave me alone! I'm not your Princess!" Arielle yelled, covering herself with the duvet and burying herself in the darkness. Before she knew it, she sank deep into the very dark and lost her consciousness altogether.
"Princess!"
"How many times am I going to tell you not to call me that," Arielle groaned, rubbing her forehead and ignoring the prickling headache.
"I'm sorry, my Lady, it seemed that you were having a nightmare."
Arielle looked away from her closest lady-in-waiting and leaned her head onto the carriage's window. Staring at the gated cream-white manor in front, a little more than a mile away, Arielle frowned. They had been lingering beside the Aster Manor for more than an hour, waiting for some notable invitation card. By now, it was apparent the hostess of tonight's ball did not care for her attendance.
Between attending a few small tea parties for the sake of keeping formalities. Arielle now received a silent order from the King to celebrate the most significant social event of the week. She peered up from her seat at the lantern lightings and several carriages going through the gates and huffed in annoyance, causing the window to fog.
"And, we've just received your invitation letter for the ball," her lady-in-waiting calmly spoke, holding out a letter.
Arielle turned her head to her lady-in-waiting, Myrtle, who had a fond slow smile curling the corners of her lips. Myrtle was the only daughter of the nursemaid who tended Arielle during her early years as a Princess of a potent Kingdom. During those dreadful times, Arielle had grown close to the only person who accepted the unusual persona of the Kingdom's dear Princess.
"I believe we are now allowed into the hall," Myrtle chirped, leaning forward to place a strand of Arielle's lavender hair behind her ears.
"After the party has started and is nearing its peak," Arielle replied, running her hand on the ends of her hair. "Let's return home."
"My Lady, you know too well Lady Livia is being cautious," Myrtle said, looking out the carriage. "Think of the bright side. This will be your first masquerade ball."
"Oh, please!" Arielle snorted. "You know how much I abhor such events."
Myrtle only gave her a stern look and shook her head. "My Lady, you promised that you wouldn't cause a scene," she reminded, holding the letter to her face.
Arielle rolled her eyes and ripped open the owl bronze seal of the letter, "Fine! I won't."
To my dearest little sister,
I'm glad you safely returned from the country and am ever so grateful you are out socialising at high society again.
It's almost as if you never left.
I've missed you greatly. We all did— tremendously.
If you're not up for the party, please inform me well in advance, and I'll arrange a spare room away from all the hassle.
I would hate for you to feel unwell just before my fiance's coronation.
Yours truly,
Livia Hartnet.
A formal greeting letter laced with concern from her soon-to-be darling sister-in-law. She'd sent countless letters and invitations in the few days Arielle was back in the capital voicing her kind regards and best wishes.
Are you truly well now?
"Very much well," Arielle uttered in sarcasm, scrunching the letter that posed as a warning.
A threat to keep her in check and not exercise the formalities that came with her title. To be in the background during the entity of the evening ball and not say a word. To observe and abide by the muted tradition of a masquerade ball. If it weren't for the King's wishes, she'd still be holed up in her room until the coronation and only attending small tea parties hosted by no-name noble families that did not care for her title.
Sighing aloud, Arielle had enough of her long-existing dilemma lingering in her hazy mind and decided to leave the carriage before she changed plans.
"My Lady, don't forget your mask."
In the halls of an antique manor filled with laughter, soft melodies and scented intoxicants, Sabo stared up at the luminous chandeliers in a daze.
The hall was far too loud and boisterous to his liking, far too used to the standard humble parties he'd attend. Here, everything was extravagant. From the way, people dressed in white or awful bright glitter to the voluminous food on display and the exquisite drinks wasted. It was the sort of event fitting for the nobles who lived in a Kingdom with rich resources.
While the aristocrats were all masked in the most lavish styles, it was hard to discern the identities of those allied with the King. Sabo picked up a glass of champagne from the side table and slowly circled the glass with his palm. His watchful gaze examined the manner of the nobles before him, laughing and telling sensational stories of the season without care of eavesdroppers.
"The King has accepted an audience with outsiders."
Eager to listen in, Sabo lowered his top hat over his eyebrows and kept his attention on his sizzling champagne. To think that these nobles were aware of their arrival was somewhat expected, for a mole was somewhere within the King's chambers.
"I hear it's one of the great pirates!"
Sabo perked up at the mention of pirates and kept the glass of champagne on his lips. Or maybe the arrival of the revolutionary officers was held in the dark, and these men were conspiring against their King.
"A Yonko!" One of the other noblemen guessed.
"Why would the King rely on those devils? The world government will never allow it!"
"Hear, hear! It's all because of those pirates! Our resources have not profited correctly. The Navy captured Joker, and our trade is declining!"
Sabo gulped down the rest of the champagne, the sizzling sensation of the lemonade throbbing at the back of his throat.
"But, I heard the Prince had a fallout with the Navy and is now turning to rebels for aid."
"The world government are not looking out for our best interests. They serve them, ultimately." Another nobleman hissed.
"I welcome any rebels ready to reverse the curse of this new dawn!"
Sabo couldn't help a snicker escaping his lips. These noblemen were along the right lines of this Kingdom's existing troubles. Ever since Luffy defeated Joker, several underground trade ports worldwide were out of service or were not working as well as they used to. From what he could remember reading the detailed reports, the Kingdom was facing high inflation rates for their goods due to several trading ports gradually losing their usual confidential clients.
"Shh," hushed a nobleman, elbowing the other for his insolent remark.
A wry smile replaced the snicker as Sabo moved across the table to get a clear picture of the features hidden beneath the noblemen's illustrious white half-masks. Reaching out for another glass, Sabo caught a nobleman's gaze and grinned, holding out his cup as a formal courtesy.
The short nobleman dismissed him entirely and hurried away to the centre of the hall with the rest. To which Sabo shrugged his shoulders and strutted to the far end of the hall with open windows, ignoring the odd glances from the masked ladies.
The loud music, endless chatter and laughter in a humid was beginning to overwhelm his senses. Assuming he had one too many drinks of spirits, Sabo left the hall room to clear his mind.
The night breeze stroked past his slightly flushed skin, elevating the slight migraine tingling in his head. Sabo walked along the garden patched with varying flowers softened under the silver glow of the moonlight.
He removed his gloves and caressed a few blooming red lilies in his view. Truthfully, he really did not have the patience to return to the rowdy hall, which had now vanished against the whispers of the wind. It reminded him too much of his strained past, as such events were just another elaborate way to court a higher-ranking noble lady.
Sabo wandered deep into the garden hedges, his awareness dulled by the distantly familiar voices of his parents. From the corner of his eyes, he spotted a small fountain fringed closer to the end of the lush garden. Its water sprinkled through the crisp air, highlighting the vibrant stars that flourished over the night sky.
Removing his mask and top hat, he sat on the corner of the fountain and cupped the chilly water to rinse his face.
"Are you okay?"
A gentle voice suddenly broke his trance. Startled, Sabo peered up from his seat to find a young woman wrapped in a fancy white and gold mask approaching him. Her lacy gown fluttered gracefully in the mild breeze alongside her white hair flowing behind in a bewitching rhythm against the moonlight. Quickly, he turned his head and tried to find his mask, now floating in the fountain.
Sabo mentally cursed his recklessness and hoped the young woman was oblivious enough not to recognise him.
"Are you hiding out here as well?"
"Perhaps," he replied before she came any closer. A part of him was glad the dark clouds had shrouded most of the moonlight. "Though, I should start to make my way back."
The young woman only hummed, taking another step closer to Sabo. "I've never seen you around before. Are you new to the Kingdom?"
Sabo reached out to his now wet mask and stood facing the lady, avoiding her intense gaze. "I am a traveller," he paused, thinking of a sound excuse.
"Invited to the upcoming coronation and wanted to see a glimpse of the Prince before the big day," he lied, smiling at her peculiar expression. Was she acquainted with the Prince for her to wryly doubt him?
An unnatural stillness filled the air, and the lady hummed again. Her wide amber eyes stared at him in wonder, and Sabo almost held his breath as though she could see into him. Was he too obvious?
"Then I guess it'd be fine if we swap these," She mused, breaking the blunt silence and removing her golden white mask adorned with tiny gems. "For I am also just a humble noble resident of this Kingdom and would hate for a troubled guest to be in the spotlight of tonight's ball."
Wide-eyed, Sabo, who had first anticipated further questions from the young lady, was baffled at her strange request and smoothed his cravat before accepting the dry mask with one hand and holding the other in his gloved hand.
"Think of it as a gift for helping me," she added, treading closer to him and snatching the moist black mask before he had the chance to retaliate.
Gift? Sabo wondered, studying the design of the fancy half-mask. Something about its white colour and the overly decorated gold all over irked him. Perhaps this lady was fooling around, as it would only highlight his existence in the hall. It wasn't like he had a choice, seeing as he couldn't display his fire abilities in front of her.
"See, it suits you perfectly," she beamed with a glint of pride crossing her eyes.
"And why are you hiding away from the party?" Sabo asked in an attempt to change the subject, a part of him curious over her unusual behaviour. She wasn't afraid of being with a stranger in the dark and seemed far too blissful in exchanging masks.
The glint in her amber eyes disappeared, and for a second, Sabo could've sworn he saw her frown.
"I—I have to go," she stumbled, quickly placing the moist half mask over her eyes and shifting her attention to the direction of the manor hall.
The soft tunes echoed across the breezy wind and dispersed all her vigilance like a sudden alarm. Did he offend her unknowingly?
"I hope you enjoy your stay at Asterye," she said with a strained smile and retired to the dim garden hedges without so much as looking back.