Masquerade

"Lord Narsus?"

The strategist stopped to turn and look at the servant that had just called his name, fervently hoping this was not yet another invitation to the masquerade that would take place the following week.

The servant, having captured his attention, bowed deeply. "Forgive me, my lord, but Lady Nazilla asked me to give you this on her behalf."

A pink envelope appeared in Narsus' hand, and before he could say anything the servant was already gone. Brown eyes studied said envelope as the strategist's headache increased.

It was yet another invitation to that damned masquerade!

And with half the women and a quarter of the men in the Royal Palace of Ekbatana wanting him to be their escort to the ball, Narsus was beginning to feel... Flattered? No, definitely not that. More like cornered.

Heading back to his rooms, he wished he had not come up with the suggestion of this ball in the first place. Sure, King Arslan was now old enough and needed to choose a queen, and certainly he had to find a way to entertain the two dozen available princesses present in the palace at the moment...

The pink envelope ended up in a pile of similar missives (although not all of them presented in similarly offensively-coloured materials) as soon as Lord Narsus reached his room.

There was another matter which bothered the strategist - he knew that his old friend Daryun would receive similar offers, would accept none of them, and therefore would not offer him a much-needed distraction at the ball. And, after all, what reason did Narsus have for getting drunk than to have Daryun carry him back to his room?

And obviously, Daryun would never go with Narsus as his partner because he did not want to feed any of the rumours flying around the palace about the two of them...

Narsus snorted. As if it was not blood obvious that they were a couple! Why did Daryun insist on making things more complicated than they were?

Narsus watched one of his own servants enter the room with yet another handful of letters. She was lithe and athletic, more androgynous in her features than womanly.

He mentally grinned. Maybe, just maybe, there would be a way to get Daryun to keep him company.

Daryun was not expecting to be having an intelligent conversation with any of the ladies that had fawned around him. Of course, he had not encouraged them either. In spite of this being a masquerade, he was wearing his good old parade uniform, a more ornamented cloak and a black mask that hid his upper face, but nothing more. It had been quite easy for most of the guests to guess who he was, and thus steer clear of him. Still, even as he engaged on a discussion with his fellow General, Quishward, he found his eyes drawn now and again to one of the ladies in Gieve's company.

Thank Misra Narsus is not here tonight, he thought as he stole glances at the woman when he believed Quishward would not see. If he'd catch me staring at a woman, I'd probably never hear the end of it. Or worse, the strategist could decide that, since Daryun was more interested in woman than in him, their (albeit concealed) relationship was over. That would be a tragedy, for lovemaking to Narsus could not be compared to similar experiences with other partners.

Narsus was not there that evening however. An unexpected matter had kept him away. The general wonder what exactly could keep his lover from a ball - Narsus had been most excited when he had spoken about attending. Still, by the time Daryun had found out Narsus would not be there it had been too late not to go, and besides Arslan was counting on him to stop any troubles in the making.

"... but I have never seen this Lady Nargess at Court before this evening."

The fragment of conversation pulled Daryun from his thoughts and made him turn his attention on the two women that had just passed him by. They were supposed to be butterflies, he believed, though one was quite corpulent and the other rather short. Still, if there was an uninvited person attending, what were the odds of that person being an assassin?

Quite high. And he was not willing to take any chances with the King's safety. Especially if the supposed assassin was a woman.

"Excuse me, ladies, but who exactly is this Lady Nargess?" he asked, making Quishward stop talking and stare at him oddly.

The solid one blinked at him, then pointed with her fan in Gieve's direction. "Why that one, of course." Her companion nodded and the two resumed their round of the hall and their conversation.

Daryun frowned as he looked at the person the two had pointed out. It was the same woman that had caught his attention. No doubt then - there was something strange about her. And it was not the fact that her dress was a cross between Shindra and Pars, nor her full-faced mask with decorative ribbons and beads. No... it was something to do with her pose...

"Are you interested?" Quishward asked him. "I'm sue Gieve would introduce you to her if you wanted to."

"She is strange," Daryun replied, turning away so he would not be staring. "Something about her is not quite right. I could swear I have seen her before, but I cannot tell you where."

Quishward laughed. "Just don't use that as a pick-up line, my friend," the older man said, his eyes gleaming. "She's coming this way."

Daryun froze as a polite cough came from behind him. "Is something wrong, milord?"

The voice was quite low for a woman, Daryun noticed. In fact, now he was positive he and the woman had met before. But only when he turned to her and caught a glance of brown eyes looking at him with mirth did he realize who she - or, rather, he - really was.

Shocked, he stared into those eyes for a few good moments before Quishward shook his shoulder. Under the mask, a brown eye winked at him as the not-so-foreign-now person fanned her-, um, himself. "Lord Daryun, are you unwell?"

Daryun groaned. He swore to himself that Narsus would pay for this!

But first, he was going to do something about those rumours flying around. After all, if he slept with a woman he couldn't possibly like me, could he now.