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The ballroom bursts with colour as Hien, duke of Kugane, steps across the threshold.
How funny it is, to be a guest within his own palace, but sure enough the crown of Doma will be his again, eventually. It always returns to his outstretched hands whether he wills it or not. Such is his fate until he finds that for which he longs for.
But tonight is a time for festivities and mirth, not for melancholic thoughts.
Unbidden, his thoughts return to that woman from before -- one of Solus’ handmaids. He wonders if she will be here tonight --
She had looked enchanting, the glow of the stained glass casting colours into her pale hair. And he had not even managed to catch her name before he had been whisked away -- the sting of regret still bites at him. He feels as if he had been so close -- so close to something , just barely at the edges of his mind, the same sensation as if a word were stuck at the tip of his tongue.
He doesn’t realise he is grasping at the lapels of his golden suit until a woman catches his eye, her expression concerned. Hien gives a customary smile and nod of reassurance, and she passes him by, a small plate of cake clasped in her gloved hands. Whilst the middle of the enormous room is devoted to the dance, a band troupe centred on the stage with a familiar song winding about each person at the event, the sides and alcoves of the room have been festooned with all manner of long, thin tables prepared with a banquet of easily digestible foods and snacks, as well as of course various kinds of drink, from champagne to simple juices and water. And there is no shortage of servants skirting about the room to spirit away empty plates and glasses and bring in more cakes and other treats.
Speaking of servants...
Solus had brought four servants with him on this visit, more than Hien has ever seen him with before. To be more precise, he has only ever seen Solus alone, and yet…what kind of business could ever prompt him to bring a whole entourage with him?
“Enjoying yourself yet?” the man invading his thoughts asks, as if called upon. He swirls a glass of champagne in one hand, brings it to his lips. Despite the purple mask, his white forelock makes his identity inconspicuously obvious. Or perhaps it is simply that Hien knows him well enough. He has always reminded him of inky black shadows, the kind even sharks avoid as if the plague. His perfectly tailored black suit only lends credence to his impressions.
“Certainly,” Hien responds with a mild tilt of his head. “And you, likewise; I hope the catering has not been overly boring.”
“Not at all. It has been more or less adequate…”
Solus trails off, seeming as if he is about to wander off again into the throes of the surrounding festivities.
“Wait -- ” Hien grimaces even as the word leaves his lips. Solus tilts his head slightly as he looks back toward him.
“Yes?”
“If I may…” He pauses a moment as he tries to discern how best to phrase his query. “Your retinue...will they be joining us this evening?”
He can practically sense the amusement in the noble’s gaze.
“Why? Looking for someone? ...But of course, I suspect they were merely getting changed.” He gives a nod to the entrance of the ballroom. Sure enough, though their faces are obscured by their masks, Hien can tell they have been joined by none other than Solus’ escort. He has never seen any of them on any of Solus’ prior visitations, and somehow, they all remind him of the sea.
The pinkette, of sun-dappled waves, as seen from beneath the surface. The petite, white-haired girl, of the moon gleaming across waters still as glass. The brown-haired lithe man makes him think of stormy seas, just before the rain…
-- And the young woman, with hair of palest seafoam, reminds him of the ocean itself, as changing and dynamic as her multicoloured eyes. Calm, bright, yet able to boil into the most grievous storm. It was always her eyes that had drawn him to her. A more striking combination he has never seen before.
Tonight her face is framed by a mask that gleams of bronze, seashells and corals carved into the design. It almost feels ostentatious compared to his own mask of gold sequins to match his garb. Her dress shimmers in the light cast from the chandeliers overhead, a multitude of blues and greens that seem to mimic the roiling of the sea itself, the view he so likes to look at from his window.
That sensation just at the back of his mind returns.
Her gaze catches his, and his heart jolts; almost immediately, she strides toward him confidently across the ballroom. Hien glances to his side to excuse himself from Solus; but the man has already slunk away, he knows not even when. Clearing his throat, he smiles, holding out a hand for her. She takes it with a wide beam, stretching out a hand to lay in his. A ring with an enormous ruby as red as one of her eyes sits on one of her fingers, glinting at him. Just as he has recognised her, she has surely espied his identity.
Her back brushes against his chest lightly as he pulls her into a twirl. She smells of salt and sea, the wind swept from the piers. His favourite scent. He almost leans toward her as she slides away, her grin dazzling. There is naught else in this enormous room but her; even the chime of the music has all but faded from his ears under the force of her laughter.
“Your perfume -- is lovely,” he manages, feeling awkward even as he says it. Her mismatched eyes squint quizzically at him from beneath her mask, and for a moment his stomach drops out to his feet. She is about to admonish him.
“Uh…? Perfume? What’s that?”
“You don’t -- ? Oh…” As quickly as he’d felt it, the embarrassment fades, only to be replaced by bewilderment. What lady of any sort of court knows nothing of perfumes…? Surely she must be wearing some sort of scent, oils or creams --
“N-no matter,” he continues, trying to smooth the conversation. “If I may -- what is your name…?”
For a moment, her gaze breaks away from his, her bright red lips curving slightly in deliberation. She casts a look about the room, as if looking for someone. Then her red and blue eyes return to him.
“...Kirishimi. And yours?”
He smiles. Somewhere in him bubbles something akin to relief. He had thought he had offended her yet again.
“Hien. A pleasure to meet you.” He tugs her gently into the centre of the room to join the other dancers. Her dress flows as if it might be made of purest water. The music is slow; he touches his free hand to her waist in preparation for a waltz. It does not entirely seem as if she knows what to do, but she is quick to learn and ascertain her steps.
“I must admit,” he starts with a brief chuckle, “I was a bit worried I would not be able to see you again. ‘Tis not often the help are entreated to join the fun.”
She gives a dry hah in response, moving with him. “Miss me, didja? Huh...I suppose Solus is a generous lord.” Kirishimi rolls her eyes as she speaks, as if what she says exasperates her.
Truly, she does not really seem like a maid. Far too spirited to want or like to be subservient to someone else -- she looks like someone more suited to that of royalty. Something tugging at the very edge of his mind, of his memory…
“Ah!” She steps awkwardly, colliding into him; one of her feet coming down onto his. If not for the material of his shoes, it would likely be painful. “Oh, ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean ta -- ”
“No, it’s quite all right, my mistake, I wasn’t paying attention -- ”
Unwittingly, he pulls her close, trying to steady her as he holds her firmly. They both give an awkward laugh, making an attempt to salvage the dance. Their masks bump; Kirishimi directs her gaze back up to meet his. He thinks his heart might have stopped in his chest. He does not think, simply tilts his head slightly to the side and leans forth.
The clock tolls. Her crystalline eyes widen in realisation, then darken in something excruciatingly close to disappointment.
“Oh, I have ta go.”
“Wha -- sorry, what?” Hien doesn’t think he understands what she means. Go? Now? Why? Not when -- “Just -- please, one more dance?” The music is about to change, surely they could chance one more --
“I can’t keep my fellows waiting, yeah? We promised.” Her smile now is laced with regret. Her shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “Sorry. I gotta go.” She pulls away from him; he unthinkingly catches her hand between his own.
He hears a sudden snap , as if a clap, or someone snapping their fingers.
Her hand slips from his, and she hurries away from him to the double doors. He can see Solus and her other companions have joined her at the entrance way. Casting glances back at him all the while, she disappears with them across the threshold.
It is only then that Hien notices an odd weight in hands. Blinking, he walks toward one of the tables. In his palm lies a ring that is not his own.
Kirishimi’s ruby.
His eyes widen. He is not sure what boon this is, but if it is an excuse to see her again, so be it. He cannot let a maiden leave without her adornments, maid or no. Clutching her ring in his fist, he runs out of the ballroom.