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The cursed princess. Lady of Death. Ruler of the underworld. Since she was a child, Castorice had been called many things; given more titles than she deserved by blood. Her crime? Being the sole survivor of her family in a royal mutiny. Pity never came from others. Rather, the vassals and the people asked her for it every time they saw her. “Mercy, your deadly highness, don't come any closer!” an old woman on the verge of death once exclaimed when she saw her. Other times, they said nothing. Parents stood protectively in front of their children as they walked down the street. Fearful glances. Some, disparaging.
When the princess looked in the mirror, she saw only in her empty gaze everything for which she was singled out. What if it was true? What if everyone who came near her ended up dead? To date, that had been the case, hadn't it? Just in case, it was necessary to keep her distance.
Little by little, she isolated herself in the castle and took refuge in herself. She let the nobles who still approached her for convenience be the messengers of her orders, as well as her informants. If she had to rule her people from the shadows, so be it.
After that tragedy, perhaps her entire circle perished forever, but she remained like a living ghost.
At least, until a suggestion encouraged the reopening of the palace gates: masquerades. The opportunity to connect with the people, almost as anonymously as she had been ruling for decades. No one knew the princess's face anymore, after all. And although she had her doubts and misgivings at first, Castorice at least deigned to lean on the railing of the upper floor and admire how her people, and she no longer had that mutual respect of not crossing paths.
But go down there and mingle with them? No, she was safer up there. No one would want to touch her hands, after all. No matter how much she had grown, her pointed ears and lilac hair were the most telltale signs. What if someone recognized her, and they had to start all over again? After all these years, it would be unbearable. No. It was better if she stayed…
Wait a minute.
Amidst the dancers and classical music, Castorice spotted a figure snooping around the upstairs hallways. The figure glanced around briefly before attempting to sneak into the rooms. However, Castorice was able to intervene with a soft, “Excuse me…”
“Whoops! Ah, finally. It must be you!”
“M-Me? This…” As Castorice tried to find excuses, the young woman approached her reverently. Not a hint of fear. Nor disdain. “Who are you?”
“It would not be proper at a masquerade to reveal our identities.” Bowing, she held out her hand elegantly. Castorice was paralysed. Someone willing to touch her?
Now that she looked more closely, she was a woman with short gray hair and mischievous blue eyes full of mischief behind the mask. Despite her feminine figure, she was dressed like a man. Long black pants, a top that was practically the same. Lace and fabric managed to create elegant patterns despite everything around her: an incognito among incognitos. Her mask also had certain feline attributes: two little cat ears crowning her gaze.
“May I have this dance?”
“I…”
Castorice hadn't touched anyone in a long time, either; what if it was true? What if her hands only produced the deadly sighs that made the princess so afraid? Whoever she was, the feline woman only leaned back further, waiting for her to take that step.
So long had she craved the touch of another woman, and now she was once again chained to the maybes of her own mind.
Castorice did not want to condemn anyone else.
“What? Come on, don't be shy.” The young woman looked up again. When she reached for her hand, Castorice pulled it away. However, a hint of sweetness overshadowed all the mischief that remained in her. “I really want to dance.”
Castorice pursed her lips and then sighed. Like a whisper to the moon that bathed the beautiful young woman in front of her, she murmured, “I want to, too.”
“Then, what's the problem?”
“It's just… You shouldn't touch me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I'm…”
“Whoops. Anonymity.”
“Of course, anonymity.” Castorice repeated. Beneath the mask, her violet gaze became a field of lavender swaying in the wind. “But you must know that it's not… It's not possible.”
“Why not?”
“For your safety.”
“So you're thinking of others, huh?” Despite everything, she was the princess. No matter what, she was destined for her people. “Well, I think that if you want to dance, you should dance. Life is too short, princess.” Her Highness's eyes widened at the stranger's nickname. “Not all of us have seven lives like cats, you know? We have to make the most of the one we're given. And if that means that mine may perish in the arms of a beautiful woman, then perhaps mine will have been worth living.”
A blush spread across her cheeks at these words, but at the same time, they filled her with a little more courage and conviction. Masquerades. As satisfying as they were longed for. Hadn't anonymity been the point of celebrating them? Because, deep down, Castorice wanted to have that opportunity to dance with someone else without fear of others judging her.
It was her body that spoke. Her fingers almost kissed those of the stranger. Fingertips, about to touch those offered by her hand.
“Are you sure?”
And, in response, she squeezed her hand. Castorice's pulse quickened, and worry ignited in her body like the short fuse of a firework. They exploded inside her chest in a symphony that followed the rhythm of the wind quartet taking over the music under the stairs.
“Of course I am.”
Just in case, she waited a few moments, but nothing happened.
The mysterious masked woman was still alive. Safe and sound.
So, calmly, Castorice swayed gently to the rhythm set by her dance partner. Short steps, but rehearsed as she had always done: alone. Now, however, she had a mysterious companion. The pulse racing in her throat was also something new.
The princess's dress swayed like a field of lavender, falling like waterfalls behind her legs. It shortened once it reached above her knees, leaving a train that followed her in an almost starry trail, twinkling under the moonlight and starlight. Black and white blended together in perfect harmony with each turn taken by both partners. The purple remnants were barely visible in the darkness; Castorice thought it even shone brighter than ever.
“Not bad, princess.” She winked, smiling. Castorice could only blush.
“Thank you, I had the opportunity to rehearse beforehand.”
Everything was so… warm.
The eternal winters that had trapped her within her kingdom were now nothing more than mere drops melted in the blossoming spring of that lady. Delicate were the hands that held her and pressed her against the other's body. Even without knowing who any of them belonged to. Only those sea-blue eyes full of mischief and fascination.
And those lips adorned in an appetizing pink.
“I know you said anonymity and I respect that, but… How should I refer to you, at least?”
“Well, I can't just go around telling people my name, princess.” Seeing how Castorice reacted again to that nickname, she narrowed her eyes. “For an equivalent exchange, I'll think about it.”
“Equivalent exchange?”
“Hmm… Let's see, why don't you tell me yours first?”
“Mine?”
“See? It's not that simple, hm?” She tilted her head. “Maybe we have no reason to tell each other.”
“Well, you're right. Still, let me rephrase the question.” Castorice turned and then raised her arm for her to do the same. Now, her hand was firmly on her lower back. Blushing, she let her rest her head on her royal shoulder. “Will I see you again?”
“Curious words to ask of a stranger.” Although he couldn't see her, Castorice knew she was smiling. “Do you want to dance again?”
“Yes… I guess I do.”
“You guess, huh?”
“I know I do.” She corrected herself immediately.
“All right, all right.” And as the music faded, the woman traced both cheeks, leaving behind strands of her long lilac hair. Her fingertips caressed her ears. Castorice wasn't sure what was happening, but she couldn't help focusing on the face so close to hers. “Do you really want to?”
“Yes… If that's what you want.”
“Then, princess, I'll take my guarantee that we'll see each other again, okay?”
Perhaps Castorice had read too many romance novels. Seeing her face leaning toward hers, how could she not expect a secret kiss between people who had just met? If her hands were so warm, then surely her lips would be too, right?
However, instead of pressing them against hers, it was her fingers that declared the stranger's intentions.
Click.
In the blink of an eye, Castorice no longer felt the weight of the earrings on her ears. She didn't even process it before two of her knights rushed upstairs.
“There she is! Cipher, the thieving cat!”
“Thief?” Castorice muttered back.
“See you later, princess.” She winked at her as she jumped out the window like one of those felines. “I promise!”
“Promise...”
Castorice could only raise her hand as the stranger slipped away as quickly as she had entered: mysteriously. However, when she looked over the windowsill, she found one of the two earrings that had been stolen from her. It didn't seem like a coincidence. Rather, it seemed to have been deliberately placed there.
“Don't let her escape! Tell the others to search the gardens!” Her knights continued to give orders to each other.
But all traces of her had vanished.
Except for the one Castorice now held in her hands. She cradled it between them and brought it to her chest. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't take her eyes off the window, nor escape the cold night breezes. On the horizon, she kept watching as it danced eternally in her memory. Any feelings of betrayal she should have felt faded with each step.
“Are you all right, Your Highness?”
“Huh?” Castorice turned to her personal guard, Phainon. “I'm fine. You can stop looking for her, she hasn't taken anything of value.”
“But… Well, if you say so. I'll let the others know then.”
“Yes, please. Thank you very much.” Cautiously, she continued tracing the window frame. To her right, a particular coat had been placed. When she turned around, like the feline, Phainon had also disappeared. Smiling, she put it on her shoulders.
And, unconsciously, she continued dancing to the music that was still playing. Alone once again, only now aware that, at some point, the feline thief would see her again.
“Cipher…” Castorice repeated. “So that is your name.”
The next day, she would investigate her further.
For the moment, the masquerade was not yet over.