PART I: Act Two // The Ball //

For all that Princess Adora had dreaded the evening's soiree, she could not help but feel giddy as she watched the guests coming and going from her windows. Carriages trundled down the long entrance way, flags from near and far snapping atop them. Each carried noble, dignitaries, merchants, traders and all of the most important members of Stormwatch high society along with their treasures.

She had been lucky when she had returned this morning. Nolan was still asleep at his post, and Adora promised herself she would not get him in trouble for the offense. In fact, she thanked goodness for him and his slumber. He had been her unknowing abettor for some time now.

"Oh, Lady Hersillia how much longer?" The little princess asked anxiously, the fabric of her gown worried between her impatient fingers.

Her bewitching mentor chuckled, a tinkling sound that made the jewels about her tanned throat bob and sparkle. She easily tossed her flowing chestnut hair in a way Adora envied. "Patience, darling. A lady must keep her admirers wanting, and waiting. We shall be 'fashionably late.' Do not worry, darling, they shan't start any of the real fun without you."

Lady Hersillia was older than Adora and a high ranking court mage who had graduated with top honors from mage college. Still, she had a soft spot for the princess and was officially the girl's Mistress of Robes and mentor. When Adora's parents had died of Tylarian fever when the Princess was still young, Hersillia had not hesitated to step in and guide the wayward girl. Adora's mother, Princess Therese, had been a dear friend of Hersillia's and the mage saw much of her late friend in the young, and only somewhat impetuous, Princess.

Lady Hersillia skillfully braided Adora's soft blonde locks, and decorated them with jewels. The Princess was dressed in a pink gown with an ocean of petticoats that made it float about her. Juxtaposed to Lady Hersillia's sleek emerald dress and ceremonial mage robes, complete with golden jewelry upon her hands, arms, and head.

The Phantom, a severe looking, raven haired woman in leather armor, stalked moodily back and forth in front of her door with her arms crossed. The Phantom was only a little older than Adora and her real name was Varena. She was one of Adora's other guards, and her personal favorite. She knew Varena despised parties, finding them impossibly boring and vapid. However, the steadfast guard took her job incredibly seriously – and enjoyed the dessert table quite a bit as well. Adora would never say it to her face, but the Phantom was rather cute when she was grumpy.

At long last the Princess swept out of her room alongside her entourage in a swathe of perfumes and skirts. The chattering procession passed by the floor-to-ceiling windows on the bottom floor, the ones that looked out over the hedge maze. As they did, Adora caught sight of three bodies emerging from the maze. Easy to miss, they were backed into the shadows of tall pines and away from the party and its ethereal flames that lit the grounds in hues of pink and blue and purple. She could only just make them out in their strange costumes, her head tipping back to get a last look before stepping into the ballroom.

The strangers were almost immediately forgotten as the atmosphere of the party enveloped her. Performers warmed up and prepared their routines, and the musicians tuned their instruments for the dance that would end the night. The tables were being piled high with food by servants and with gifts by visitors. Both for her, and Prince Nicobar. Even her seat was covered in chocolates, ostentatious bouquets, dresses, and more things she certainly didn't need or want. Prince Nicobar sat broodingly at the end of the table, watching. The Sheriff was nowhere to be seen, though likely hiding among the shadows.

Getting to her aforementioned seat, she was mobbed at every step by potential partners. Men of every creed and kingdom, and all interested in marrying her. They ripped the dance card from her, even as the Phantom smacked their greedy hands away, until it was covered in names and smudged with ink. Before sitting down Adora shoved the presents off her seat while Lady Hersillia scowled contemptuously down at the illegible dance card.

"Barbarians," she said in a low, unimpressed tone. "Have they no class? I can not make out even one name clearly, they've written atop one another. The brutes."

The Phantom nodded along in agreement, until she froze suddenly. Adora looked up to see a stranger approaching them, walking briskly across the dance floor. No, not just any stranger, the Princess realized, one of the strangers from the hedge maze!

Stranger they truly were, holding a striking red rose in hand. Dressed neatly in all black with a long, ebony velvet jacket buttoned closed. Their face was hidden by a beaked plague doctor mask, the glass of the eyes tinted a dark cherry red.

"Good evening," said the stranger, bowing deeply before them on the opposite side of the table. The voice was masculine, but obscured behind the mask. It came out with a pleasant crackling hiss. Some kind of mild enchantment.

"Good evening, indeed," purred Lady Hersillia, a perfect eyebrow arched curiously. "Can we help you?"

"Pardon the interruption. I merely wished to give the lady this small token before the evening commenced. I do hope not to come across too hasty, but I must admit I've been waiting with bated breath and longing heart among. This mere earthly flower pales in comparison of your beauty, the most lovely of roses in all of Stormwatch, but alas no material gift matched your value."

With a flourish he spun the rose between his gloved fingers, then reached across the table and held it out to her. Adora felt a warm glow spread across her cheeks and nose as she accepted it. She was used to praise being lavished upon her, but it normally came with an ocean of expensive gifts to buy her interest. There was also something wonderfully and oddly sincere about him.

"Thank you." She spoke almost into the petals, unable to look directly upon the plague doctor for his boldness. "Pray, do you have a name?"

"Ah, the Princess speaks and how my heart soars as though to hear a symphony! Call me Sylven, my lady."

"What do you want?" Barked the Phantom. "The Princess is busy."

"Varena, be nice to our guest," chided Lady Hersillia. The Phantom threw her hands up and looked at the mage in a way that silently asked, 'how am I at fault here?'

"Indeed do tell, Sylven," continued Hersillia. "What are your intentions? Do you wish to become our lady's suitor?" "I wouldn't presume. However, if perhaps the Princess has a space free on her card, I would greatly desire a dance."

Adora frowned with disappointment behind the flower. Her dance card was full enough for a week of nonstop dancing already, but to her surprise Lady Hersillia crushed the card in her hand under the table. A curl of smoke puffed out and up between her fingers.

"You're in luck, darling." She held it out between her perfectly manicured fingers to Slyven. It was empty. "Her majesty is completely free. How about the first dance? Right after dinner and the performances. Then our sweet Adora can tell you all about the contest."

"Contest?" Sylven asked with a curious tilt of the head. Adora reddened further at the mention, but Lady Hersillia nudged her under the table to encourage her to elaborate. Adora glanced over to Nicobar, who was thankfully engaged in his own conversation with a steward. A complaint, no doubt.

"There is to be a fair of sorts in the coming weeks, where there shall be a contest. Or, rather a series of contests. All with the ultimate goal of... well..."

"Establishing the formal pool of potential marriage candidates, an official list of suitors. Though marriage can occur, it cannot be finalized in the eyes of the law nor that of the Lord without the King's blessing."

"Long live the King!" Exclaimed Sylven unexpectedly. Prince Nicobar shot a dangerous glance down the long table, but returned to berating the grimacing steward.

"Long live the King!" The Phantom echoed in a softer tone, grinning ferociously.

"Yes, yes. Here, here and all that." Lady Hersillia waved her hand with irritation, silencing them. "What say you, Sylven? Shall I enter you into the contest?"

"I can not deny my interest, my good lady, but that seems to me a question for the Princess to answer."

There was a blast of bright horns announcing the feast was about to begin. Guests began to make their way to their seats which circled around the floor, making space for the entertainment. The plague doctor dipped another deep bow, the feather of his hat sweeping across the floor.

"Forgive me for I have overstayed myself. Enjoy the performances, all. "You'll return?" Adora asked too quickly, hopefully. "For the first dance, that is?"

"I would not miss it for all the world, Princess Adora. Until then." With a flourish of his obsidian cape he disappeared into the assemblage of various servants and staff from home and abroad. Guests began to surround the food tables, filling their plates, as the ballroom soon filled with chatter, laughter, and the clink of glasses and cutlery.

"Do you think he will have a performance tonight?" Adora asked giddily. Lady Hersillia's ruby lips quirked with a knowing smirk that the Princess did not catch.

The Phantom popped another gâteau St-Honoré bun into her mouth and spoke between doughy bites. "I saw him from your room earlier with a retinue of, I can only assume, clowns?"

The performances were captivating. From music to acrobatics to magic, act upon dazzling act left her intoxicated with the night. When it was done, and the tables cleared and move, the marble floor was lit with a magical glow. The musicians began with a gentle ballad as the dancers sought their partners. Those who weren't participating retreated to the plush couches for cocktails and coffee, and a stack of dessert the Phantom had been watching like a hawk.

It wasn't long after that Princess Adora was backed against a wall, trying to peek out from around her furious guard who blocked the growing mob of fuming, frowning potential suitors. They were arguing with Lady Hersillia. Smug yet demure, she calmly explained to the crowd that the Princess's first dance was spoken for, and the rest of her card to be determined after.

The crowd parted angrily and watched with silent envy as Sylven practically sauntered up to the blockade. He bowed with one hand folded behind his back, offering the other to the waiting Princess. She accepted his hand, blushing under such scrutiny. He swept her across the floor and lead her into a whirling mazurka.

"Where are you from?" She asked.

"Ahh, I am from many places, from a land far away it seems now." "Does this land have a name that one might recognize?"

"Are not there more interesting questions to ask?" He suddenly dipped her low, his strong arms supporting her. The beak of his mask was mere inches from her nose. She blinked in surprise.

"Questions? Such as?"

He lifted her back up and easily settled them back into the bouncing routine once more. He was a marvelous dancer, less restrained and restricted than so many she had danced with before, even if he was quite tall.

"Oh, well how about, what is her majesty's favorite book? What is her favorite flower?" Sylven spun her, making her dress flare deliciously out, then twirl her back in under and into his arms. "I would bet all of my money on roses." He spun her back out once more. "That is merely a starting place in terms questions."

"You find all that interesting? Truly?"

"Utterly fascinating! There is no more captivating a subject than yourself, Highness. No fairer a maiden in any land, and none at all with as sweet and gentle a heart. If you should prefer instead, I would be happy to regale you with one of my many adventures."

"Adventures?"

"How about the time I fought off a terrible crew of crooked pirates that were extorting the poor? Perhaps the cliff-side duel I was forced to fight, and win, against a corrupt count to rescue his imprisoned family? Or the wicked prince I most recently battled?"

"Oh my! However do you find the time with the duties of your station? Are there not guards or knights in your domain who could aid these people as they should?"

"I often wonder the same thing myself. The downtrodden, gentle people of my beloved home just need a helping hand out of the darkness. Sometimes such a hand can get a bit messy."

She wanted to ask more, much more. Every word seemed to write chapters in the book of Sylven 's existence, and they had only just scratched the surface. Who was this person? Why had he come here? What did he look like under the mask?

Before she could ask anything, however, the Phantom stormed across the floor and took hold of the princess by her arm, a stern look on her face. Though, her menace was softened by the sugar that dusted down the front of her breastplate.

"Pardon, Princess, but we must leave."

"Leave? Oh, but why? Sylven was just about to tell me-"

"Milady, please. Do not argue, do not cause a scene. Just come with me. Now."

Adora looked agonizingly between her guard and the captivating stranger. Despite the Phantom's contempt for parties, Adora knew she would not interrupt like this without reason. Certainly not without Lady Hersillia's blessing. The Princess searched her skirts frantically, and at last found her dance card in a pocket.

"Oh dear. Please, Sylven, forgive me but I simply must go. Will I see you at the contest?"

"If her majesty wishes it so, I would not miss it for all the world."

She pressed a little pink kiss to the card and timidly held it out to the him. "I do wish you might come, that you might tell me more of your adventures. Oh and roses are my favorite flower. They have been since I was a little girl."

"I knew it." He took the card gingerly, like it was something precious and delicate.

The Phantom swiftly dragged her away. The music was lively and dancers pivoted to avoid them as they hurried away. She looked back over her shoulder to see Sylven vanishing into the swirling, delirious miasma of the ball.

"Adora," groaned the bodyguard, brushing off her chest, "why did you not tell me I was covered in sugar? That does not particularly invite one to take me seriously."

It was not until later, when the Princess was safely curled up beside her fireplace with her needlework in hand, that she learned the reason behind her abrupt removal and the subsequent sudden end of the ball immediately thereafter.

"Bandits? In the palace? Oh dear." She was alone with the Phantom, who stood firmly in front of her door despite Adora's repeated offers to sit and have a cup of tea to calm her nerves.

"Somehow they managed to break in during the performances, when everyone's attention was the most captured. Do not worry, for bandits are simple and foolish, and we were able to remove them from the palace swiftly. Although, they did manage to abscond with valuables and some gold. Truly, most of the items were stolen from carriages. That, however, is a diplomatic problem for Nicobar." "How brazen to sneak in on the night of the ball."

As the Phantom launched into a detailed, heated explanation of the nature and ways of outlaws, rapscallions, and hooligans the Princess thought to herself.

'Oh, how terrible,' she pondered. 'But, oh, how wonderful was the ball? And my stranger from a far away land...'