Verse 2: Waltz With the Phantom

Everyone has something they’re afraid of. The longer you live, the more you discover there are things and people you can’t defy. There was only one such person for me, and he’d been an absolute authority since I first met him. Although lately, I was beginning to think there was someone else besides him, as well.

The stairs led down to a floor resplendent with decorations and lively music. Boisterous laughter boomed as nobles, dressed to perfection, engaged in idle banter among one another. It was little different than the capital’s usual evening parties, except for one element: everyone had their faces hidden beneath masks. By hiding their true identities, they could indulge themselves in ways they normally couldn’t lest they be recognized.

There were those who hid only their eyes and those who hid everything—even the hair on their head. Some girls wore exotic veils acquired from abroad, and some men wore eccentric, animal-like decorations. People’s tastes fell over a broad range, but one thing was true for all of them: no one was showing their face. Just for tonight, they were forgetting their social status and basking in the casual atmosphere that the masquerade ball provided.

“Women sure can be bold sometimes,” I, Alan Ferrera, whispered to myself beneath my clown mask.

Only youthful indiscretion could lead one to lose themselves in this madness, regardless of the fact that a noble was hosting the party. But it’s not a bad location, I thought as I surveyed the surrounding area.

Masquerade balls could lead to chaos sometimes, if past experiences in the capital were anything to go by. But as a composer, Viscount Gorton had enough pride in himself to invite only those of respectable character. No such madness would play out here. Besides, most of the people in attendance were nobility. People might recognize one another in spite of the masks, but they would never say as much. That was one of the rules of a masquerade ball.

As I watched the people mingle, pretending not to know each other, I caught sight of something interesting that made my lips peel back. I hummed thoughtfully.

There was a girl with fluffy, platinum-colored hair, clad in a dress of mixed ashen gray and white. Her airy skirt bounced around her as she moved, much like the wings on her back that were decorated with lace. Her appearance drew the attention of other men in the room. She wore a mask that looked like bird wings to hide her eyes, but it wasn’t adequate enough to hide her identity.

For a bit now, she’d been on the receiving end of numerous dance requests and invitations to speak in private. Some men had even tried to push fruit wine onto her. She was a source of fascination.

“This can’t be good...”

My master had ordered me to spread a new nickname for her around the capital, and it never suited her better than it did now with her current outfit. She was the Fairy Princess. I had to commend Lady Therese and Lady Julia. They’d deliberately designed the dress to bring out the princess’s inner beauty. However...

“He’s going to be pissed, and I don’t want to be caught in the crossfire.”

If my master, the prince, were at this party, it wouldn’t be a problem. Unfortunately, Prince Chris had left to perform an inspection in a nearby city and was returning to the capital later than anticipated. I had sent a message along to inform him of what was happening, but I could already picture the demon lord awakening.

I shivered, chills running down my spine.

Unaccustomed to so much attention, the Fairy Princess turned down all of the men’s solicitations. Her bashful innocence only served to draw even more of them in, like moths to a flame. Her confusion was palpable; the prince had done an admirable job snuffing out all the flies that would have otherwise flocked to her, which was why she was so inexperienced.

“There had to be a better way to go about this,” I mumbled to myself, smiling bitterly as I watched the lady’s friends chase off her more persistent suitors.

The two girls were close with the Fairy Princess, and they had grown frustrated this past year at the complete lack of development between said princess and the prince. That was probably why they had resorted to such a primitive method as this. Although, it would be poor manners to call their thinking shallow. Going to all this trouble was proof of how much they cared.

Well, either way, I was trying to fight back a laugh.

“Lady Therese is finding the whole thing amusing, I see.”

She was much more pleasant than her older brother—the ice demon.

All right, so how should I handle this?

It was my duty to keep an eye on the Fairy Princess, but I’d also heard some intriguing rumors about this manor. I wanted to look into them. However, Scarecrow didn’t seem likely to help me out.

As I contemplated what to do, I also inwardly tipped my hat to the fearless girls who had started all of this. I certainly didn’t have the guts to summon the demon lord as they had.

~.~.~.~

Why was this happening?

We went to Lady Therese’s house to dress ourselves, and then before I knew it, we were in a carriage and arriving at the event venue.

When she noticed me feeling hesitant to attend the evening party without an escort, Lady Therese said, “It’s a casual gathering where you can just let loose, Lady Elianna.” She merrily fastened her mask onto her face, and the three of us (my cousin Julia included) headed inside.

And that brings us to the present...

“You’re an adorable fairy, my lady. Please, allow me to see for myself how light those wings are. Won’t you dance with—”

“No, a fairy belongs in nature. Why don’t the two of us venture out into the garden for a little stroll?”

“No. A fairy would be more inclined to drink fruit wine, no? Please, have a taste of—”

My head was spinning from the incessant invites that came flying at me one after the other. I knew of masquerade balls as a concept, but of course, I had never participated in one before. The change in atmosphere left my mouth hanging in awe. Who could have ever imagined that by merely putting a mask over my face, I would transform from the Library Ghost into a fairy?

While I reaffirmed to myself what a curious event this was, Julia and Lady Therese were on either side of me dealing with a number of suitors themselves. Lady Therese was especially popular, more so than at normal evening parties. A mask could scarcely hide her elegant beauty, and the way she conducted herself was just graceful enough without seeming haughty. Nevertheless, she skillfully brushed the men’s solicitations aside.

As I was captivated, wishing I could learn from her example, one man suddenly grabbed me by the arm. “Excuse me,” he said.

“Huh...?”

“Ah, you look pale. You must not be used to this kind of place, my fairy. Come along, let’s rest over there together.”

Right as this stranger was about to steal me away, Lady Therese smacked her folding fan against her palm and interrupted. Julia had an unusually hostile expression on her face as well.

Then, abruptly...

“Pardon me.”

With just two words, the atmosphere in the room changed. It was almost as if the ruler of the night had descended. For as opulent as the room was with its fancy chandeliers and guests adorned in jewels, it still paled in comparison to this man. People’s gazes were drawn to him—a man in all black with a matching black mask.

Even the yellow light of the candles took a knee in front of his dazzling golden hair. He was obviously handsome despite the mask obscuring his face. His physique still resembled a growing youth, but he had a commanding, impenetrable presence about him. What most stood out to me, though, was how intimidating he was, as if he could pressure even full grown men to bend to his will.

“I’m afraid the Fairy Princess is already engaged. Could you stand aside?” His restrained voice echoed. The words he’d used were polite, but there was an unspoken threat that made the air heavy with tension.

The man who’d grabbed me by the arm gulped and took a step back. All of the other men around him did the same. The moment this phantom in black appeared, everyone receded like the ocean tide, overwhelmed by his presence. Only I was left in their wake.

Quietly, the phantom stepped closer to me. He wore the same overcoat you might see a male opera singer in, except the collar was colored a fiery red. That wasn’t the only thing that stood out in the swathes of darkness that rippled around him, though.

His lips curled into a smile as he took my hand. “My Fairy Princess, allow me to be your partner for this dance.” The way he spoke implied he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

As if captivated by this phantom’s invisible spell, I reached forward and took his hand. He pulled me with him, and the two of us swayed to the melody of a waltz. There was a darkness deep within the eye holes of his mask that seemed to swallow me. My feet moved naturally, with no regard for those watching, as we circled around the room. Everything about this felt just right, and my body melted into the music.

It’s so easy to dance with him, I realized after a while. Normally, I tensed up when dancing with a stranger, focusing so hard on reciting the dance steps in my head that my limbs moved like stiff boards. There were very few people I felt this comfortable with. There was my family, of course—Alfred and my father—and Jean, who was often my practice partner, but other than them...

The phantom chuckled, lifting his chin proudly as he said, “The way your wings sway is adorable. It gives me the impression that if I don’t trap you while I can, you may flutter away from me.”

I swallowed hard. Other people had told me similar things before, but for some reason, when he said it, I got the feeling he really meant it.

“I don’t...actually have wings, though.”

I was sure it was merely an expression of flattery at evening parties, but the way he spoke made it sound as if I really did possess invisible wings.

His eyes flickered with amusement. “I see. Well, I suppose it would be hard to see anything on one’s back—be it wings or one’s own charm. But you really do flutter off to different worlds all the time.”

“Eh?” I blinked back at him.

He smiled and pressed his hand firmly against my waist. In an instant, he pulled me so close his body heat was spilling over my skin.

“And that’s exactly why I want to capture you,” he whispered. “But flapping those wings constantly must tire you out. I’m sure you must need a break.”

Apparently that was his way of signaling our dance had come to an end. He pulled me along, the two of us gliding off the dance floor and through the doors to the outside garden.