Chapter Text
“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” Alina huffed, “Both of you!” she added, the force of her glare falling on her two best friends.
Zoya chuckled, eyeing her perfectly manicured nails, but it was Genya who answered, her beautiful copper hair pilled in perfect ringlets atop her head much like a crown, “Oh come on, Alina. It’s a masquerade ball. It’s held in honour of the crown prince. And we got an invitation! Why are you so sour?”
Alina crossed her arms over her chest, “Because we weren’t officially invited! You got it thanks to your beau, David.”
Genya’s eyes glinted, “Yes, I did. And if all goes well, tonight we’ll finally kiss. You wouldn’t deny me that, would you, Alina dear?” She peered at the window to assess how far they were and hummed delighted when she saw the palace coming closer, “Plus, you get to wear that wonderful dress! Don’t say you aren’t happy about that.”
“Of course she is. Did you miss the way she danced around the room when she put it on?” Zoya answered before Alina could even take a breath.
Alina snapped shut her mouth and shot a white-hot glare at her friend. Zoya didn’t even blink an eye as she examined her other hand and put her gloves back on. Shaking her head, Alina shifted in her spot again, trying hard to not wrinkle her dress while also trying hard to look like she wasn’t trying just that. After a few seconds of failing at it, she huffed and smoothed down her full-skirt, the rich golden fabric shimmering under her shaky hands. She looked out the window, seeing nothing but the other carriages that came behind them.
This was a terrible idea. No matter how beautifully dressed they were, going to a ball to which they weren’t officially invited was invitation for trouble. She sighed and settled down and waited. Tonight was the crown prince’s 25th birthday and all of Ravka’s best families had been invited. The rest of Ravkan people were holding celebrations throughout the city of Os Alta, patiently waiting for midnight, the moment when the most exquisite fireworks would illuminate the night sky over the palace. It was also the night when the prince was supposed to choose a bride, once and for all.
Rumour has it that he wished to invite every eligible young Ravkan for the ball, but his mother, having ruled the kingdom alone ever since his birth, had denied that request. It was far easier and less troublesome to invite only those of royal blood and hope for the best. And by hope, she meant that the prince had to choose his bride before the night was over or have his mother make the choice.
Alina found the rumour plain ridiculous and pure fairy tale material. In fact, she was certain she had heard many versions of such tale throughout her childhood years.
It didn’t matter what was the real reason for the ball. What mattered was that she had a bad feeling about attending it when neither of the three girls had a drop of royal blood.
Well, maybe Zoya had a drop or two. But no one would ever believe that.
“I have to admit, Genya… You were right.” Alina said in awe.
They’d entered the ballroom, their names had been announced, and not a soul had batted an eye. And that had happened fifteen minutes ago. Genya’s red lips opened in a proud and victorious smile, “I told you. You were worried for nothing.”
Zoya tsked and grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter, “Genya, are you even surprised Alina was over worrying? It’s Alina. That’s what she does. And verbally bite off the heads of big men with big weapons.”
“I do not. And he was being extremely rude!” She argued, cheeks heating up under the filigree mask. Masks. Because it wasn’t just a ball, it was a masquerade ball. And Genya, ever the craftswoman, she had built three exquisite masks for the three of them. Alina had gotten a white filigree mask that fitted her perfectly and was extremely comfortable, in spite of being made of metal. Zoya sported a black lace mask that covered only her eyes, drawing special attention to their startlingly blue shade. No guest was able to pass by her without staring for long. As for Genya, she wore a papier-mâché mask decorated in gold leaf and held up by an intricately decorated handle.
An excited gasp drew her attention back to Genya, who was hopping on her spot, as eager as a child upon seeing candy, “It’s David! He’s here!” She announced before rushing away from her friends. Her steps were hasty but elegant as she made a beeline to David, the royal engineer. The young man started in his spot and had just one second to react before Genya wrapped her arms around his neck and planted her lips on his. He stood frozen for a moment before melting in her embrace and awkwardly kissing her back. Alina chuckled at the sight. David wasn’t known for public displays of affection, whereas Genya was. Which meant that Genya hadn’t waited even a second before taking the plunge and kissing her beau.
“Say goodbye, Alina. We won’t see her again until tomorrow.” Zoya said knowingly as Genya dragged David away from the crowd. “I should find someone to kiss tonight as well. These masks are awfully useful when it comes to such an act.” She added. Just on cue, a young man dressed in a deep red suit approached her.
He bowed, his bright red hair falling to his eyes, “May I?”
Zoya studied him for two long heartbeats before deeming him a good catch. Then she nodded and offered her hand. She winked at Alina, mouthed “Go get them” and disappeared in the crowd.
And thus Alina found herself alone, in a darkened corner, cursing her friends for dragging her to this ball and leaving her to dance with their partners. Heaving a long and tired sigh, Alina took a gulp of her champagne, only to grimace the next second when she remembered why she never drank it. It tasted awful.
“Like it that much?” A voice broke through her thoughts, making her sputter the remaining of the champagne back into the flute. She grimaced at the spoiled drink and looked at the source of the voice, cursing the owner long before she even saw them. She gaped. In front of her stood a tall and impossibly handsome young man. His blonde hair was the purest gold and behind his fox mask shined two hazel eyes, mirth and wicked ideas dancing in the candle light. His lips (far too perfect and lush for her taste, of course) were curved in a smirk that echoed the spark in his eyes. Alina knew in that moment this man was trouble in human form.
“Love it.” She deadpanned, looking away from those hypnotizing eyes.
A low and warm chuckle brought her eyes back to his, “Champagne is such a dreadful drink. I don’t know why everyone pretends to enjoy it.” His gaze left hers to watch the dancing crowd around them, “Quite a party, wouldn’t you say?”
She shrugged, “A bit stiff, to be honest. I didn’t even want to come.”
His eyes snapped back to hers, open wide in shock. Mockery? She couldn’t tell, “Truly? Dressed like that?” When she frowned at the implication, he quickly shot up his hands in surrender, “I didn’t mean it that way, lovely maiden. I meant that such a beautiful creature such as yourself staying at home tonight would have been a loss for the world.”
A blush crept up her body. His smirk gained an edge. She scoffed, “Please, if you think that will get you a dance or some snogging behind a drawn curtain… You better knock on some other door.” She crossed her arms for added effect.
The Fox chuckled again, “I meant every word, beautiful maiden. Pray tell, do you have a name I can call you? Unless,” He winked, “You enjoy being called ‘beautiful maiden’”
She scoffed again, wondering when she had done something so terrible she got stuck with an infuriating fox-masked man when her friends had found far better company. “I don’t enjoy it.” She lied, “You can call me Alina, if it means you’ll stop saying all that ridiculous nonsense.”
His smile was wide and so bright, her lungs were knocked of all air. “Alina… What a beautiful name.” With a flourish of the hand, the Fox bowed deep and extended his hand to her, “May I have this dance, beautiful Alina?”
Fighting a blush, Alina rolled her eyes at the offered hand, “I’m not really interested.”
Staying low, Fox chuckled again, “Would you prefer to stay here, sulking in the shadows, easy prey for old, drunken dukes and counts?”
Oh. No, no she didn’t. Scoffing at the offending hand, Alina took it and grumbled a fine as the Fox drew her deeper into the crowd.
Her heart wanted to flee. It hammered against her ribcage so hard and so fast, Alina was certain it would break through any moment now. And they were just dancing. Dancing!
The Fox had his hands as properly placed as etiquette ruled, yet she couldn’t ignore the way his touch seemed to burn straight to her skin, ignoring layers of fabric that logically were placed in the way. His smile was polite, but his tongue was teasing and playful, the young man teasing Alina every step of the way. Still, she couldn’t stop talking with him. Something about him was magnetic, making it impossible to deny any answer. It didn’t help that he seemed to be well educated and an adept of the same things she was interested in learning. And the proximity of his face to hers… Well, she was thankful it was a masquerade ball, even if her mask did little to hide her ever present blush.
The song ended and the two bowed.
Alina got ready to return to her spot, hoping either of her friends were back there, ready to offer her some protection from the mysterious Fox. But no soon has she lifted her hopes, his hand was grabbing hers, the touch more tender than expected.
“The air is stuffy here. Would you like to go for a walk outside?” He pleaded.
Alina really didn’t want to go for a walk outside. Those tended to lead to dark places in the garden and to wandering hands under full skirts and stolen kisses under the moonlight. But something about the way he voiced his question made her nod. She wasn’t sure what, though.
The air was cool on her burning cheeks, the soft breeze caressing her loose hair so lightly it was more of a kiss than a breeze.
“Much better out here, wouldn’t you agree?” Fox said, hands behind his back as the two walked through the garden.
“Yes, it really is.” She couldn’t even pretend it wasn’t better outside when she had complained about the stuffy ballroom as much as she had taken breaths. Lying to him right now would only gain her some merciless teasing.
She felt his gaze on her but pretended not to, absentmindedly playing with the perfectly trimmed edges. Fox cleared his throat, “You weren’t on the Queen’s list, were you?”
Panic took over her as she snapped her head to him, mouth hanging open, “What?” She finally breathed after a too long moment of silence.
Fox’s smile was less wicked and more understanding than the situation called for, “Not to worry, beautiful Alina, no one is going to kick you out. But I know every name on that list and I would have remembered an Alina. It’s a beautiful name, impossible to forget.”
“Well… I, huh… I… We… My friend…” she stammered, feet glued to the grass.
“Yes, I believe that’s how you got an official invitation without being officially invited. Genya, is that correct?” When Alina continued looking up with wide eyes and gaping mouth, Fox added, “She’s been courting David for a while. I’m not surprised he got her an invitation.”
“Who… How?” She got out, the words breathless. Panicked.
“Don’t worry, Alina. Only I know. And David.” He added with a shrug. “I’m glad you came, though. The night was threatening to be awfully dull until you showed up.”
“I… Well… Thank you?” She was lost. Confused. Dizzy. If he knew they were crashing the ball, why was he being so… nice? And how did he know David? According to Genya, the engineer had little to zero friends outside his team. And the prince, of course.
“You’re welcome, beautiful Alina.” Fox said just as that last thought crossed her mind. Of course, when he said ‘beautiful Alina’ again, she quickly forgot all about what she’d just been thinking.
Fox took off his jacket, of a gaudy teal shade, and draped it over her shoulders, “You’re shivering, Alina. Perhaps we should return inside.” Was it concern in his voice?
She shook her head, ducking low as to hide the blush that was bright on her cheeks, “No. Too stuffy. And if you realised we’re not supposed to be there, then I really don’t want to risk anyone else noticing that either.”
He cocked his head, a corner of his lips curving up in a half-smile, as if privy to some joke only he knew of. Then he reached up and tugged a lock of hair behind her ear, his eyes locked in the movement. Alina herself was frozen in place, her gaze unable to move away from the alluring hazel eyes of her companion.
“Perhaps… Perhaps it’s too much of a bold confession, but…” He started after a moment, his voice thick and hoarse, “I would very much like to kiss you right now, Alina.”
“Oh…” she managed, her body now close to combustion. The Fox had voiced what she herself had thought at least five times since the beginning of the night. Certainly, it was purely physical attraction, but it was there nevertheless. Having danced for long with him, talked about matters that interested her and then having sneaked away for a walk around the gardens, during which she had felt almost completely at home. Having done all that and felt all that… It wasn’t so hard to desire a kiss from the insufferable Fox-masked man.
Fox stepped closer to her and cupped her face, “Would that be a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’?” His eyes searched hers and Alina had to gulp down her silence.
“A good ‘oh’.” Oh yes, indeed it was.
And then another good ‘Oh’ formed in her mind the moment Fox leaned down and kissed her lips. He tasted of heaven. And he moved like an old lover. As if he knew the exact way he should hold her closer, the exact spots where his hands should be, the exact press her lips needed before parting and welcoming him in and deepening the kiss.
Her hands had somehow found their way up to his hair and she passed them through the rich and soft locks. Her tongue danced with his in a never-ending dance that was theirs and theirs alone. Her body was pressed flush against his, the warm jacket having fallen off her shoulders by now. Her breathing was his and his was hers and her heart was drumming in her chest, setting a rhythm to their moves. She felt his own heart, beating fast and rampant and a happy sigh formed in her throat.
Fox took off her mask and threw it away, his hand finding its way back to her unbound hair. Alina’s fingers found the ribbon that held the fox mask in its place and without a second to wait, she took it off. She cupped his face and a moan grew deep within her as she felt it for the first time, no mask to stop her hands or her lips.
“Prince Nikolai!” A shocked shout echoed behind them and the two broke apart as if lighting had struck right where they stood.
Fox looked where the shout had come and cursed under his breath.
And Alina realised, as she looked at his uncovered face for the first time, that Fox wasn’t really Fox, a stranger that knew a lot about the palace and happened to have found in her a kindred spirit to spend the ball with. Fox wasn’t just a handsome stranger.
Fox was prince Nikolai.
Fox was the crown prince of Ravka, Nikolai Lantsov.
And Alina had just snogged the crown prince for Saints know how long.
Without missing a beat, she took off.
Fox—No, prince Nikolai. Prince Nikolai called after her, his voice desperate as he tried to catch up to her. But Alina had made good use of his temporary distraction and had a good advance over him.
Soon she found her way back to the ball, where she quickly searched for her friends. When it became obvious neither were within the ballroom and were probably busy with their ‘friends’, Alina made a rash decision. A request was given to the guard that had greeted them. Her carriage was requested. And before the prince could catch up to her, Alina was fleeing the palace, only mildly sorry for her stranded friends.
“Blast!” She cursed when she realised her beautiful mask was gone. No matter, she thought to herself, a hand on her running heart, it was just a mask anyway. Genya wouldn’t be too mad, hopefully.
What Genya would be mad over, however… that was another tale.
Alina felt all hot and dizzy just like that. The memory of his lips on hers and his hands buried deep in her hair… It was far too fresh. So was the knowledge that she had just thoroughly kissed and been thoroughly kissed by none other than prince Nikolai Lantsov.
Oh saints.
She wanted to die.
Because she really, really wanted to go back and kiss him again. Or maybe she wanted to punch him.
Maybe both.
“Your highness!” his royal guard reached him.
He stood breathless on the palace stairs, eyes locked on the empty road. After a moment, he finally looked back, “Yes, Tamar?”
“What happened? Vasily just came screeching to us on how you had been kidnaped by a trespasser and that he found you two doing… things in the bushes.” She said, making a face at ‘things’. Certainly, Vasily had made up some ridiculous tale on how Nikolai and the ‘trespasser’ had been humping in the garden or something. Maybe he’d even spoken of filthy sounds or something.
He sighed, “Tamar…” He cast his eyes upwards, “I was in the garden with a beautiful stranger that had an official invitation. And while we were kissing, that was all that happened.”
Tamar’s golden eyes shined with a silent question.
“She wasn’t on mother’s list. But she had an invitation.” He looked down at his hands, holding with care the white filigree mask. “And she was amazing, Tamar. Smart, witty, beautiful…”
“Sounds like a winner.”
“Yes. Too bad mother will flip when she hears about it.”
“Would you like me to announce you have a headache and can’t attend the ball anymore?”
“That would be wonderful, Tamar. I’ll make use of that time to track down her friends and find out where my lovely companion is running off to.”