When she returned to her dormitory room, she found a letter from her father. It was spelled to look like a normal sentimental parent-to-child letter, changing into its true form when she pressed her lips to the seal at the top. It was in code as well, so she had to decipher the message.

There was a masquerade ball coming up that would be held at the palace. Her mother wanted her to attend, of course, and her father also wanted her to go. If she could, she would try to approach the king. Requests for private audiences with the king had always been managed by the council, and they would not be letting certain people see him, so the only other way to get hold of him was if he made an appearance himself.

The king hadn’t made almost any appearances since the queen’s death, certainly none in public, and the times he had shown up, it was hard for those observing him to tell if he was under some sort of duress or simply too affected by grief, as orders were maintained for people to leave him alone and keep their distance. No trace of magic was detected around him, but there were mages out there who were so good at concealing their trails that only another equally powerful one would be able to detect them. Most of such mages worked for whoever paid them the most. Given the wealth of the council, it wasn’t impossible that they had one of these mages under contract.

Even if Hyora couldn’t get an audience with the king, she could at least have some fun.

***

The outfits her mother had prepared for the ball were elaborate, as expected. She didn’t want her children attending such a large event unprepared and looking less than their best.

Hyora’s dress was designed to match her twin’s outfit. They were both made with black and purple silk and satin cloth, with a decorative sash that stretched from their shoulders to their waists on the other side. For Hyora the sash ran from her right shoulder to her left waist, and for Hoya, it was the opposite. Their masks also complemented one another, with a butterfly design that mixed purple and black with touches of green and blue and silver.

When they arrived at the palace gates, there was a line of other carriages in front of theirs, proceeding slowly along. By the time they entered the grand hall, the site of the ball, the place was nearly half full of guests. Everyone was wearing masks, some more mundane and monochromatic and others more eccentric and elaborate. As expected, there were peacocks and swans, but there were also dragons and griffins and even stranger monsters and creatures.

With the masks, it was harder to identify people, of course, but Hyora did manage to spot a few of her friends and acquaintances. Hoya soon left her side to talk to one of the older nobles present, leaving her to wander about a bit for a while, guessing at the identities of the people who passed by her.

She almost bumped into someone, and when she looked up, she was staring at a Barn Owl mask, with ginger coloring at the edge of an otherwise white heart-shaped face. The eyes peering at her through the holes were a familiar glittering dark brown verging on black.

“Sungyeol?” she sputtered. “What are you doing here?”

“I got invited as well, as a student of the Royal Academy,” he answered, shrugging. “Also, I could be your backup in case something happens.”

“I think I’m fine right now.”

“I’m sure you are,” the taller boy conceded. “Having fun?”

“I just got here, and I have no idea who is who,” she pointed out.

“Well, perhaps you would like to dance with me, if you have nothing else better to do?” He swept out a bow and held out his hand in a melodramatic matter. Hyora had to stifle a giggle as she accepted her friend’s offer.

She quickly found out that Sungyeol was no master of dance, despite his long limbs, but at least he was decent, and he managed not to step on her toes throughout the song. Even so, she did enjoy all the random spinning around that they did, ignoring the weird looks that some people cast at them.

When the song finished, Sungyeol let go of her hand, his face surprised by something behind her. She turned around and saw a man wearing a black panther mask. It took a moment, but she realized that it was her fiancé.

“Hello, Myungsoo,” she said, giving a small wave. He grinned wordlessly, the corners of his mouth turning up in their usual cat-like manner.

“I guess I should leave the two of you alone,” Sungyeol muttered. With a hop to the side, he shuffled away toward the refreshments.

“Sorry to intrude on your moment with your friend, but I believe I am obligated to ask you to dance,” Myungsoo remarked.

“We just finished, so it wasn’t an intrusion,” she assured him. “And yes, I suppose you are required to do so.”

In the time that they had gotten to know each other, they had found that despite their apparent differences—Hyora was much more of a talker and doer, whereas Myungsoo was quieter and more thoughtful—they got along fairly well. However, no romantic interest had never cropped up between them, and Hyora almost felt that the younger boy was like a brother to her.

The next song began, which was their cue to take to the floor.

“Is that fellow your lover?” Myungsoo asked, his voice barely audible over the music and the chatter that echoed throughout the hall.

“Sungyeol? No. Just a friend.”

“I see.” They continued the dance mostly in silence. Myungsoo was notably a better dancer than Sungyeol, but she had the feeling it was more due to extensive training than anything else. Unlike Sungyeol, he did manage to step her toes once, much to his embarrassment, but she bit back her yelp and spared him any public humiliation.

After a while, when the song was nearing its end, her fiancé said, “I’m sorry you have to dance with me and not someone else you would rather be with.” Hearing these words, Hyora found herself wishing a certain someone was with her. She had a feeling he would have worn a bright colored mask and light colored clothing, a stark contrast to the muted black and gray of Myungsoo’s attire.

Finally, the song ended, freeing her from obligation. There was a clearing of throats, and someone toward the front of the grand hall announced, “The king shall not appear for this event, for he is not feeling well.” No one seemed surprised in the least.

Hyora had come expecting that the king might put in an appearance since the ball was a such a huge occasion, but apparently not. She would have no important work to accomplish this time around.

Looking around, she spotted her twin. One good thing about the outfits their mother had prepared was that they were easy to spot from a distance.

Just as she was about take a step in Hoya’s direction, a hand grabbed her by the arm from behind.

Turning around, she found herself staring into the eyes of someone wearing a pure white mask.

To Hyora, there was nothing remarkable or recognizable about this person, but the girl with the missing memories immediately identified him as the masked man from the train.