Chapter 12 – Shadows, Secrets, and Stolen Punch
"This party is going to burn."
Selene's words hung in the air like the glittery doom of an overly confident prophecy. Lyra narrowed her eyes, while Aeron blinked slowly, processing the fact that both girls might be plotting each other's stylish downfall.
"Well," Aeron said, awkwardly straightening his collar, "as long as the punch isn't cursed, I'm open to whatever this night brings."
"Spoken like someone who's definitely going to get hexed," Lyra muttered.
Before anyone could reply, a masked butler floated by—yes, floated—and offered them glasses of what appeared to be glowing purple champagne.
"Oooh," Aeron said, reaching for a glass. "Forbidden grape juice. My favorite."
"Don't drink that!" Lyra hissed. "It could be laced with emotional vulnerability."
Selene took a glass and sipped without hesitation. "If you're too scared of one little spell, maybe you should've stayed home and played sudoku."
Lyra grabbed a glass. "Challenge accepted."
Aeron just looked between them and slowly placed his drink back on the tray. "I'm going to go make conversation with people who can't do murder with a glance."
---
Elsewhere at the Masquerade
A tall, masked figure stood by the enchanted koi pond in the center of the ballroom. Their aura oozed dark energy, like the kind of person who writes poetry at 3 a.m. and has definitely summoned a demon just to ask relationship advice.
"That's him," someone whispered behind a decorative fountain.
"Aeron Valtoris," another voice added. "The reincarnated Omega."
He paused mid-step.
Great.
He was famous.
Or cursed.
Probably both.
He turned on his heel and casually walked away like he hadn't just heard people talking about his metaphysical status like it was the latest gossip column.
A soft piano melody filled the air. The host had arrived.
---
The Arrival of Lord Nightveil
He appeared on a floating platform made of shadows and dry ice. Because of course he did.
"Welcome to the Midnight Masquerade," said Lord Nightveil, his voice somehow echoing despite there being no microphone. "Tonight, masks will fall, truths will rise, and someone may or may not be turned into a shrub."
There was polite applause. One girl actually clapped with excitement about the shrub thing.
Lord Nightveil continued, "Before the first dance, a simple game. The one who finds the stolen artifact hidden somewhere within these halls... wins a favor from House Nightveil."
Selene's eyes gleamed.
Lyra groaned. "Of course this turned into a quest."
Aeron just sighed. "I left the house for this."
---
Later That Night
Aeron was pretending to study the wall-length painting of a goat fighting a snake with swords when a masked girl approached him.
"You're not from around here, are you?" she said, her voice playful.
"Is it that obvious?" Aeron replied. "Do I smell like budget shampoo and unresolved trauma?"
She laughed. "A little. But mostly it's the way you're avoiding everyone like they're menu items with allergies."
"Smart. Last time I ate magical shrimp, I got prophetic dreams for a week."
She held out her hand. "Care to dance, Mystery Boy?"
He stared. "Are you legally allowed to dance with someone without knowing if they're cursed?"
"Rules were made to be hexed."
He grinned, taking her hand. "Now that's a slogan."
---
Meanwhile, Selene Was Not Happy
She watched from across the room, wine swirling in her glass like a villainess stirring a plan.
"Who is that girl dancing with him?" she asked her assistant.
"She just arrived with the ambassador's niece. No known curses."
"Check again. She has too much confidence to be un-cursed."
---
Meanwhile, Lyra Was More Distracted
She had somehow found the dessert table and was fighting for her life against a floating chocolate fountain that kept splashing people based on emotional instability.
"Back!" she hissed, using a baguette as a shield. "I am emotionally stable enough for fudge!"
A nearby noble couple backed away slowly.
---
Back to Aeron
The dance ended. The mystery girl vanished before he could ask her name. All she left behind was a cryptic wink and the smell of peppermint.
"Classic masquerade nonsense," he muttered.
Then, a bell rang.
The artifact hunt had begun.
Lord Nightveil's voice boomed again. "Let the games begin."
Selene appeared beside Aeron like she had been teleported by pettiness. "We're teaming up."
"No room for negotiation?"
"I will glue myself to your shadow."
"Romantic."
Lyra ran over, holding a marshmallow skewered on her wand. "Did I miss anything?"
"Just Selene being Selene."
"So everything's normal."
Aeron grinned. "Let's go steal an artifact."