“Rumors, bribes, lies, and threats, it is a miracle that we still have a kingdom, considering that most of it’s court is comprised of incompetent, avaricious, inbred invalids. They are more akin to children than any noble hierarch. It is with this reason that the royal family exists to steer them to the right direction, by use of violence and power, outward or implied.”

  -Queen Dowager of the Rustrata Kingdom

  Prince Evan Rustrata

  It has been quite some time that Evan has entered social circles. He was embroiled in the border disputes for the past 2 years and made sure to keep it as such. He hated events like these, masquerade balls filled with strange people scheming and plotting against eachother for just a sliver of political power.

  It was so much easier in the frontlines, atleast there I’d know which direction to point my sword.

  His father and mother made sure to push him here to help with the recent beast tide, which coincidentally had a masquerade ball with the leading socialite of the noble circles. It was probably another ploy to get him married or something. This was the fifth time something like this happened already, so he wasn’t surprised.

  A knock came from his door.

  “Enter” He said as he cleaned his blade.

  A gray haired butler carrying a tray of tea came in. He wore a monocle and sported a magnificent curled mustache.

  “Master Evan, your carriage is ready.” He said with a small bow.

  He hid one of his trusty knives in his outfit and another one in his mask. He should probably get this over with.

  He stepped on the ornate wooden carriage filled with silver etchings and brass plates. It looked like a military grade carriage that was armored to the brim, but filled with last minute touches to make it look fancy. He laughs. It’s a good representation for his family, a heavily armored name with rarely any want for finery.

  Gods, this night is going to be such a bore.

  Beelza

  She and her crew were jumping through every roof, covering every temporary domicile of all their persons of interest. They were tasked to put sleeping poison on every morsel of food they could find and steal important documents, deeds, jewelry, and seals.

  She was pretty impressed at how competent Knives’ goons were. They had teams infiltrating the sewers, the ports, the streets, and the skies. She had a huge bag of sleeping powder on her back and a trusty knife in her pocket. She flew with her own team called the ravens, in keeping theme with the bandit troupe called swallowdive. She fought tooth and nail when knives suddenly got jealous of the name, fortunately she won in the end.

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  She landed on one of the mansions those rich pricks had, apparently it belonged to a prince. Rob has been slowly convincing her that they should eat the rich, metaphorically, though she’s been concerned at the enthusiasm Lodur has to wanting to partake in human flesh.

  She waited for the guy who seems to be the young prince exit the building and enter the carriage. Her scouts mapped every area and watched for any signs of the guards’ movement. After the carriage left from her view, she and her team entered through a window by unscrewing it off of it’s hinges.

  They quickly flew using sandals, sticks, and dresses covered in the flying ointment, careful not to make any sound. They quickly broke through the locks of the prince’s room.

  It looked bland and undecorated except for a simple bed and a desk. They began searching every inch of the place for anything they could pilfer. They checked the pillows and saw that it was filled with knives. They checked the mattress and saw that it was also filled with knives. Then under the bed to only be met with even more knives.

  This prince whoever he is was a real piece of work.

  She tapped the desk and noticed that it felt hollow. Quickly one of the bandits checked for any levers and latches. They opened a secret compartment that only held a single thick notebook.

  Beelza read it’s contents and smiled. With every turn of the page her eyes grew. Tons and tons of juicy details of the lives of every major family. Every scandal, controversy, or suspected crime fitted neatly in the pages of the book.

  Jackpot!

  Unfortunately it was written in cursive, so only a few people had the ability to read it. Fortunately her grandma taught it to her when a passing merchant sold them some books that were probably graverobbed. This prince was either a cunning strategist or a madman to utilize such a draconic form of cipher.

  Prince Evan

  His face was frozen in a smile. A move to placate the old nobles surrounding him like hungry beasts.

  “Oh prince, you simply must meet my daughter. She’s about the same age as you and she’s an incredible singer, she’s very talented.” Duchess Pertrine winked and waved her fan as she presented her daughter who was outfitted in a dress that seemed to squeeze the air out of her while accentuating her bountiful assets. She was blushing red at the scene of her mother forcing such an awkward situation. In response to this he just laughed lightheartedly.

  Gods end me now!

  Another person interjected, Duke Ghott, who had another person in tow, this time a boy wearing makeup. “Prince, my son is also of the same age and he is well versed in combat and swordplay.” The old man winked while the boy turned his head away in embarrassment.

  What the hell was going on?!

  While Evan was stuck in the a crowd of power hungry nobles, the city lord stepped out of the doors. Trumpets blared and a red carpet was rolled out to her path.

  “Presenting Lady Trisha Berfast!”

  He has always heard of stories of Lady Trisha’s beauty. From minstrels to drunkards and from spies to reports, none of the descriptions could do justice to what he was witnessing.

  She had black hair as dark as night. It was adorned in pearls and diamonds that shone like miniature stars on her head. She wore a dress as dark as the shadows adorned in threads of silver and silk. It almost looked like a mourning dress, which was morose, yet the way she wore it made it look transcendent. Her form was that of a nymph made physical, absolutely immaculate and ethereal. Her garbs and visage alone would put her as a national treasure, one that empires would lovingly plunge to their doom to covet. Yet what came next was her face.

  She had eyes of emerald green, pools of verdant madness that would bewitch the hearts of all who gaze upon her. Her cheeks were rosy and filled with life, as if she welcomed the chaos of life with joy and reckless abandon. Then her red lips filled with secrets that could be whispered that he wanted to hear alone. She smiled as she relished on the looks of hopeless infatuation from everyone in the room.

  She was the center of the maelstrom, a vortex of desire and control.

  Evan looked around and saw that everyone was petrified by her beauty. Men and women, young and old, highborn and lowborn, everyone was under her spell. He pulled himself together and averted his eyes. He ran behind a pillar away from the scene. Apparently no one noticed him as he took out his mask to bury his eyes in his hands.

  He’s never felt this powerless before.

  What a dangerous woman.

  She descended from her elevated location, she walked down without sparing even a single glance to her paralyzed thrall. She took her time as the room was completely silent. She took out a mask in the shape of a skull covered in spiders. Somehow the crowd pulled back and reoriented themselves.

  Then the woman spoke. Somehow, whatever Evan imagined paled in comparison to the sound that he heard.

  “Welcome everyone to a night of revelry and celebration, a night of freedom, a night of bliss, the masquerade ball.” She spoke like music and Evan doesn’t know what to do.

  He gulped his glass of wine to control himself. If he could avoid the woman for tonight, maybe he could still have some control of-

  Ow, it felt like something pierced my tongue.

  “I promise you that after tonight, you will all feel as if you’ve changed for the better. Permanently.”