Chapter Text
The light shining through the windows of the Palatine Chapel illuminates the octagonal room and its beautiful frescos, and the entire city of Aachen is eagerly awaiting outside the chapel for its new king.
As the crown is slowly lowered over Micheal Kaiser's head, the city's festive chants can be heard faintly from outside.
The crown and the coronation cloak are both heavy on Micheal's body, but moreso is the knowledge that, from today on, the entirety of the germanic territories is his responsibility to bear. A few ritualistic items couldn't compare to that, and certainly couldn't compare to his future as emperor of the holy Roman empire.
It had been just a few weeks since his name was publicly announced as the next king of the Romans. He had done everything in his power to get the title, so it wasn't unexpected to hear it from the mouths of the council.
Besides his outstanding achievements as one of the youngest military officials in the history of the germanic territories, he had also shared some of his wealth with the seven princes, just to be sure no one else could corrupt them into choosing a less suitable candidate.
With Ruprecht III finally resting in his grave, his goal of becoming holy emperor is closer than ever. Nobody really liked the old man anyway, so, after his terrible 10 years of reign, the standards of the romans are at an all time low, making it easier for Michael to become even more beloved than he would have been otherwise. Just the thought brings a small, composed smile to his face.
He rises from the kneeling position required for the coronation and is escorted outside of the chapel. Cheers erupt all around him as he makes his way through the path his knights cleared for him and heads to the banquet.
On the way there, he doesn't forget his polite smile and elegant waves at his people to get in their good graces early on.
As he sits down at the high table, and the Elector of Palatine serves him the ceremonial roasted ox while the King of Bohemia fills his glass with the best wine on the market, he truly realizes this is where he's meant to be.
Everything went according to plan. Nobody tried to assassinate him, which is already a big thing, and the banquet went more than smoothly.
Then why does he feel so uneasy? Michael sits on his new bed, trying to understand where this feeling comes from.
He thinks back at every moment that felt particularly off during this seemingly perfect day, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't quite place it.
To take his mind off the subject, he decides to take a walk around the palace, not even bothering to wear something over his undergarments. He wants some alone time, so he orders his knights to stay behind.
The role as king of the Romans also comes with the title of military commander in chief, so if he can't defend himself, who else could defend him?
He walks around the long hallways of the Palace of Aachen, making a mental map of the place so he wouldn't have to worry about getting lost.
He finally decides to make his way to the courtyard, getting the urge to memorize how the moon looked during the most important day of his life yet.
It had been something he liked to do since his early childhood. If asked, he could describe in minute detail how it looked during multiple crucial days of his life.
But, as he gets closer to the courtyard, that feeling of unease keeps creeping up on him more and more. He turns around the corner, and what he sees leaves him dumbfounded.
A man, around his age if he had to guess, is dancing the Allemande in the middle of the courtyard, a faint hum can be heard coming from him. His partner, to the confusion of Michael, isn't a woman, but a floating feminine dress. The moonlight falls on the man in a way that feels so natural yet so unnatural.
He can't help but stare at the scene mezmerized by the flowing movements. He tries rubbing his eyes to wake up from whatever this dream is.
After what felt like hours, the dance ends and the dress falls on the man's arm as if it never moved. Michael snaps back from the trance he was in, as a million questions start rushing through his head.
The man quickly turns to Michael's direction, startled.
"Who goes there?" The king takes a deep breath and steps forward into the moonlight, making himself appear as fearless in front of who couldn't be anything but a witch.
"Who are you? I've never seen you around the palace." The man appears weary of him, rightfully so, he'd add. Who wouldn't be intimidated by him, after all?
"Michael Kaiser, the newly crowned king of the Romans. Tell me your name and what you're doing in my courtyard, witch, before I call my guards and burn you at the stakes."
Judging by the man's expression, his name and title seems to have had an effect on him by themselves. Michael can't lie, it's a good feeling, even if overshadowed by the sense of danger coursing through him in this moment.
The man swallows heavily, realizing the terrible situation he's in. "My name is Alexis Ness, but you misunderstood your highness, I'm not a witch. I'm simply a humble servant. I was just practicing dancing in my free hours."
This witch truly thought he could lie his way into safety. Michael lets out a dry scoff. "I've seen you use witchcraft myself, why should I believe such lies? The dress was dancing along with you as if it were a real woman, that is sorcery."
Alexis seems to be panicking more by the second. It truly feels good to Michael to know how much of an effect his presence has, even on a witch. "Please, your highness, hear me out. I can show you how I did it."
Alexis takes the dress from his arm and pulls out a bunch of drawn wires from inside of it, carefully wrapping them around his arms in quick motions.
At that, Michael instinctively reaches for his missing sword. But when he lets go, the dress falls back like during the dance.
Michael's pride takes a big hit from that. Unjustly accusing someone of witchcraft definitely took away a few points from his perfect persona.
He clears his throat in an attempt to mask the shame boiling in his chest. "Seems like I was mistaken."
The sense of danger quickly fades, giving him enough confidence to walk up to the still panicked Alexis.
"This is a fine technique, truly impressive. Although, I do feel sorry for the rash accusations. If there's anything I can do to make up for it, just ask." He gives the other a polite smile, effectively fixing the cracks on his perfect ruler mask.
"Oh no no no your highness, you don't owe me any apology, I should have made the threads more visible. It's my fault." Michael kinda likes this apologetic and quick to take the blame attitude if he has to be completely honest.
He gives Alexis a kind chuckle as he leans on the edge of the courtyard fountain.
"Your movements were so captivating. The Allemande, right? Do you dance here often?"
Alexis looks surprised by the easygoing questions from the king. "Yes, it's the Allemande, I practice it every night."
Something about this man fascinates Michael for some reason, much to his dislike. It may have been the way he danced, or maybe the way the moonlight kissed his skin during his performance earlier, but, whatever it was, made him impulsively say words that surprised both of them.
"I want to see you dance again, Alexis."
The silence that followed was particularly awkward for the king, who immediately regretted his comment. The servant, on the other hand, looked pleasantly surprised.
Michael stands straight, trying to keep his polite smile on. "I'll come see you again during your practice, I might even be able to give you some tips."
At the words, a smile spreads on Alexis' face. "I'd be honored."
With that, the two men exchange goodnights and head back to their respective rooms.
This isn't at all what Michael expected from his first night as a king. He needs to get less impulsive with his words before becoming the holy Roman emperor.
He just wanted to memorize the look of the moon tonight, but instead, something else got stuck in his mind.
The day after, as expected by Michael but not by everyone else, no riot was in sight. The day following a coronation was usually full of violent protests, but the whole city seems to still be in a festive mood.
Michael, of course planned this out years in advance. He put extra effort into becoming a hero in the eyes of his people. He had fought off bands of vikings, magyars, and slavs, saving countless people just for the purpose of having no opposition to his ruling, and also a peaceful few days to rest in Aachen after the long and tiresome march from Frankfurt to the coronation site.
Unfortunately, early in the morning, he was still dragged to some political meeting by the council of the seven princes.
They questioned him relentlessly on how he managed to not cause any riot, to which he answered without giving away too many details.
Now, they're discussing something about the newly elected Antipope John XXIII, but Michael can't be bothered to listen, especially since all he can think about is Alexis' dance from the night before.
"Your highness, are you listening?"
Michael snaps back from his distracted daze, turning to look at the duke of Saxony with a bored expression. "You're all too preoccupied with this man. I can effortlessly get in everyone's good graces, it's a talent of mine. Can we dismiss this pointless meeting now? I have some affairs that require my attention."
The seven princes glance at each other, knowing there isn't much to do about the king's poor patience with this kind of things, before finally agreeing.
Truth is, Michael doesn't really have any important business to take care of, but, in the state he's in because of Alexis, it's hard to concentrate on political affairs. He needs to find a solution to his troubles, and quickly.
After spending the whole day thinking, he comes to the conclusion that a ball is what's needed.
Among all those nobles, there has to be someone who's dance is as mezmerizing as the one stuck in his head, or at least close enough to take his mind away from it.
He had heard of a new kind of ball emerging in northern Italy from a few Venetian nobles who came to the banquet the day before, a ball where everyone would wear elegant masks to conceal their identities. Those colorful and intricated masks are sure to catch his attention more than Alexis ever could. And so he decides to summon them.
"To what do we owe the pleasure of meeting you again, your highness?" the heavy venetian accent in their latin sounds pretty silly to Michael now that he hears it completely sober.
He holds back a chuckle by smiling at them politely "I'd like to know more about those masquerade balls you mentioned last night. And if possible, I'd also like to ask for your assistance in hosting one."
The nobles look excited at the prospect of their people's recent invention already spreading to other territories.
"Of course, it's an honor for us to help with the ball." They all excitedly agree with the noble who was speaking.
"The fantastic news is that we brought along a couple hundred venetian masks as a gift for your majesty's coronation. It will only take a week or two to prepare everything for the occasion."
How convenient. It almost sounds like they planned to expand this new tradition to the germanic territories before being asked to.
"Very well, you can start organizing everything. I'll get one of my subjects to send out the invitations."
With that, the nobles enthusiastically leave the room, speaking quick venetian between them.
The rest of the day is spent looking over the preparations for the ball. The king even got to choose a beautiful royal blue mask to wear for the occasion.
A dark pink one caught his eye too for whatever reason. Despite it not being his color in the slightest, he still decides to take it to his chambers.
As much as he doesn't like to admit it, the moment Michael waited for most eagerly was the night. In fact, the second the sun disappeared, he immediately left his room, heading to the courtyard to see that beautiful dance again.
"Your highness, you've come." Alexis looks surprised at the sight of Michael appearing from behind the corner.
"How could I ever miss seeing your enchanting dance again, Alexis?" The king gives the servant a gentle smile, before leaning on the wall to observe him from afar.
"I'm truly flattered, but referring to my dance as enchanting is definitely overestimating my talent."
Overestimating? If the dance wasn't that beautiful, Michael certainly wouldn't have been plagued by its memory since the moment he first experienced it.
He shakes his head slowly in disapproval at the other's lack of confidence, but decides not to argue. "The audience is here, you can begin now."
And so Alexis did.
As the dance begins, the glow of the moon seems to concentrate around Alexis, making his pale skin shimmer delicately. The servant's low hum doesn't miss a note while his movements look so effortless, although the Allemande is a rigid dance. The dress keeps flowing in that realistic way which, despite having an explanation behind, still looks like magic to Michael.
He can't help but think about how dancing alongside him would feel under the bright moonlight. The king has to admit, if Alexis wasn't a man, he would have already asked for a dance.
Even if this is the second time he sees Alexis' dance, he still can't help but be hypnotized by his gracious movements.
Michael spends at least an hour quietly watching Alexis dance before finally breaking his silence.
Against his better judgement, his next words come out of his mouth without any chance of stopping them.
"I'm hosting a masquerade ball in 2 weeks. I want you there, Alexis."
The servant stops his performance, turning to look at the king with a complex expression.
Michael feels so stupid. He's hosting the ball to escape this beautiful dance's curse but, instead, he impulsively brought it along with him in his getaway.
"Won't well known nobles be there? I'd look out of place and, even worse, I wouldn't know how to act."
It's too late to back down now, so Michael doubles down. "Masquerade balls require everyone to wear a mask, nobody will recognize anyone. As for your humble behavior, I can teach you how to behave like a noble."
This is definitely one of Michael's worst ideas yet. Alexis' dance shattered completely any ability the king had to carefully plan his moves.
The quickest excuse he could find for himself, is that having Alexis there will help compare the best dancers present to him more easily. What a flawless argument in favor of his rash decision, as expected from his brilliant mind.
"You truly will? Then I'd be delighted to accept the invitation."
Any chance Michael had to get out of this mess was outside of the question now, but he still tries to keep his perfect composure.
"Very well. We'll start the training tomorrow. Have a pleasant night, Alexis." Michael gives the other a gentle smile.
"Have a pleasant night too, your highness."
And with that, both a very excited Alexis and a pretty distressed Michael leave the courtyard to go back to their rooms, eagerly waiting for the next night.