Page 85 of Unravelled
He paused briefly before Queen Danlea. Asric bowed low.
“Your Majesty,” he said smoothly. There was a respectfulness to his tone, almost fond.
Mira felt the undercurrent, the performance beneath the words. His eyes tracked along Mira as he stood. He turned and continued down the foyer until stopping at the towering doors. With a flourish, he swept his arms wide and addressed the assembled crowd.
“Welcome, my friends, to the Veiled Night celebrations!” A murmur of intrigue rippled through the gathering as silks rustled and eyes leaned in.
His smile widened as he continued, “Tonight, the wonders of the Enchanted Faire have been brought forth. Marvels, mystery, entertainment unlike any you have ever seen.”
At his snap, the towering doors groaned open to reveal a transformed Grand Hall. Long tables, set with gleaming silver flatware and crystal goblets, stretched from end to end, each place marked with a delicately scripted name card.
But the true marvel was the living performances woven throughout the space. Above, aerialists soared on silken ribbons, their bodies twisting like celestial dancers, their shimmering costumes catching the glow of enchanted lanterns. Off to one side, a shadow puppeteer animated entire stories with the flick of his nimble hands, painting tales of lost kings, daring thieves, and forbidden loves against a stretched canvas. Fire breathers strode confidently through the aisles, their bursts of flame painting the air in gold and crimson.
Everywhere Mira looked, the hall exuded an otherworldly charm, both chaotic and mesmerizing. But this was no mere display of excess, it was a deliberate illusion meant to entertain and to distract. Slowly, she drew in a steady breath, straightened her shoulders, and, together with Danlea, stepped further into the den of wonder and intrigue.
???
The Enchanted Faire was not merely spectacle, it was pure indulgence. Each detail had been meticulously designed, curated, and controlled. The deeper she moved into the hall, the more clear it became.
The overhead lanterns burned lower, casting warmer, flickering pools of light. Deep reds and golds wove through the fabrics draped along the walls, shadows playing across them like whispers. Performers meandered between the tables, women in beaded silks that clung like a second skin, skirts slit high along their thighs. Men adorned in loose, open-chested tunics, the fabric decadent against their skin. Gold cuffs at their wrists, chains draped over collarbones.
Every movement was deliberate. A hand grazing an arm. A mouth too close to an ear. The barely there touch of a dancer whose fingers lingered too long before slipping into the next moment. Music curled through the space, low and pulsing, strings plucked with teasing slowness, a drumbeat that thrummed like a heartbeat beneath it all.
Mira exhaled slowly through her nose, steadying herself as she absorbed the charged atmosphere. Lord Asric’s intent was unmistakable. This was no ordinary Enchanted Faire. It was a night of seduction, where temptation was cloaked in layers of carefully spun illusion.
"Let's find our seats," Queen Danlea murmured, as she guided them toward the arranged tables.
Each name was written in silver ink, each curve precise, a testament to the careful planning behind the evening’s event. As they approached, Danlea's eyes flitted to her placecard, already affixed to the center of a place setting.
With a graceful turn, she leaned toward a nearby performer and requested an additional seat for Mira. The performer spun a silver coin across his fingers, the metal catching the warm glow of the lanterns. He offered her a slow, knowing smile, his lips curving with a secret only he understood.
He inclined his head respectfully. "Of course, Your Majesty."
As the extra chair was set by their side, Danlea turned back to Mira with a smile. They settled into the newly cleared space, and Danlea leaned in with a conspiratorial tone. "For now, you can sit here beside me."
Mira’s eyes met hers, a mixture of relief and anticipation mingling in the shared glance. Around them, the hall buzzed with a curious energy as guests settled into their seats. Some lounged back with laughter, others exchanged secretive smiles, as if shedding their usual constraints. The air shimmered with a sense of liberation; inhibitions seemed to melt away under the spell of the evening.
Mira reached for the goblet that had been set before her, its delicate stem catching the candlelight. As she took a careful sip of the sweet berry wine, as she absorbed the spectacle around her. Noble faces softened into expressions of joyful abandon, the clink of crystal punctuating the murmurs of a crowd unafraid to revel in the night’s seductive promise.
The first course arrived, a delicate pastry, golden and flaky. Mira watched as it was placed before her. She carefully lifted it, tearing off a small piece and bringing it to her lips. The pastry melted on her tongue; its crisp layers gave way to a warm, decadent filling that was savory and rich, with just a hint of spice lingering long after the bite.
Mira looked up and found Tharion standing and staring at her from across the table.
“Mira” he exhaled, his voice low and awestruck.
He wore his best uniform. A sharply tailored black ensemble adorned with intricate silver embroidery, the edges immaculate and precise. The silver clasp at his shoulder, polished to a gleam, bore the unmistakable mark of his station. In that unguarded second, Mira caught a glimpse of the man he used to be. The surprise in his eyes, when they landed on her, was fleeting but real.
“You look… stunning,” Tharionmurmured.
His words sent a mixture of pride and irritation through Mira. Tharion took a stumbling step forward, nearly reaching for her as he placed a hand on the table.
“Where… where did you get your dress?” he continued, his brow furrowing as he searched her face for answers.
Mira wanted to ignore him. But before she could find the words, Danlea leaned in, placing a gentle hand on her arm. At that silent touch, Mira turned and met the queen’s milky eyes. For a moment, it was as if two paths opened before her.
Mira rose gracefully, smoothing her dress with deliberate care, and approached him with a steady gaze.
“Will you dance?” she asked.
