"Madamè.."

I turned to my maid who stood bowing in respect.

" Yes, Lydia."

" The duke demands you to prepare for the Masquerade ball at the Kinsington palace."

As usual. My punctual husband.

Nodding, I placed my embroidery board on the dresser and walked up to her.

"Prepare my bath. Lavender, this time."

***************

" Count Hemsher would never permit me to leave the castle without an escort, he values my safety such."

Or maybe your husband values the reprucussions of having a walking concubine as his countess.

" I agree with you Lady Delilah, even I have overheard William talking about some men of low standards lurking in the dark to lure in attractive and pleasing women like us with their charms. Its a wonder we have such caring husbands."

Lady Delilah and Lady Eliza?

Attractive and pleasing?

What in the lord's name did Madame Kinsington put in this mead?!

"Oh. Duchess Christina! You've been silent for quite a while now. How are you doing? And I must comment on the beautiful craftsmanship of your mask. The crystals bring out the green in your eyes."

I smiled at the compliment directed to me.

I know you jealous darlings, I know.

" Thank you Lady Eliza. Duke Dante always had a good taste."

" Pardon me ladies."

The three of us turned our heads to the source of the deep voice behind me.

A gentleman clad in the typical attire of a Lord, wearing a black mask stood in front us, with a rather wide smile.

We curtsied in unison.

" I hope I am not interrupting your thoughtful discussion."

You mean gossip? Obviously never.

" Of course not, Lord.." Lady Delilah stretched in doubt.

" Valentine."

" Lord Valentine."

We curtsied again.

" I was wondering if I could have the honour of asking duchess Christina for a dance."

His eyes met mine. And suddenly, I found his  familiar deep blues intimidating, yearning me to drown in them.

" Of course. It would be my pleasure."

Saying so, I slid my gloved hand into his and we moved to the dance floor.

Placing one arm on my back, he pulled me towards him and my breasts pressed against his torso with not an inch to spare.

" I must say darling, you have a very intriguing set of globes."

" Hmm... I am going to take that as a compliment about my eyes."

He threw his head back and laughed with amusement.

" Most ladies would bring their palms to my cheek the moment I've stated those words."

I am not most ladies.

" Sorry to disappoint ,my lord"

" Oh. You're never a disappointment ,mon chèri."

Smiling at his endearment, I carefully placed my steps in beat with classic waltz playing in the background.

I glanced around at the ball room...and searched for that particular pair of eyes behind the innumerable masks around.

The eyes that spit fire at my every words .

The eyes that burned in anger at my sight.

The eyes that adored his mistress instead of his wife.

The eyes that hated me with an undying passion.

And there he was , the gentleman who possessed that beautiful yet terrifying orbs of brown, dressed to perfection, standing out among the other Lords who shivered at his mere words, with authority and arrogance screaming from his body.

My dear husband. Duke Jonathan Dante.

His eyes roamed around the room as if searching for something.

I buried my face against Lord Valentine's neck before I was found, and inhaled his scent.

We kept swaying in the same position as the void in my heart faded out at the sweet nothings he whispered into my ears .

I smiled into his skin, enjoying this tiny moment of joy I was never destined to find.

Until today.

Sensing the light dimming in the room,I raised my head in confusion to see that we had come faraway from the hall, into an isolated spot near the postern but near enough to hear the faint music.

Suddenly I was shoved to the wall behind me at the same time a pair of lips crashed into mine.

Oh, Merciful God!

Breaths interwoven with passion, tongues duelling for dominance and hearts pulsing with an erratic rhythm, my eyes met with Valentine's closed lids as he tortured my innocent mouth.

A sweet misery.

Out of breath, he trailed his lips to my neck and left me heaving in anticipation and a sense of contentment.

" I have a husband, my lord."

He growled against my neck in response to my declaration and bit on the sensitive skin he found there.

Sparked with pain and pleasure at the same time, closing my eyes, I did something I had never done in the past twenty years of my life.

I moaned. Begging for more.

All of a sudden, I felt the euphoria come to an untimely stop. His kisses had ceased and my eyes opened with eagerness to feel his fingers grazing my bruised lips.

" I have to leave mon chèri. Its time."

As in confirmation, the palace clock struck twelve, producing a silent melody ,proclaiming the birth of a new day.

I was never the one to beg. My aristocratic heritage never allowed it in the past

But this time, I wanted to defy it. And plead for all the pleasures he had provided me with an taste  of.

I glanced to the ball room and back to his eyes.

" Right,My lord. Take care .Be back soon."

Placing his palm on my cheek he whispered,
"I promise ."

Unable to bear the sight of him leaving, I nodded and scurried the opposite way, searching for some air to calm my nerves.

Coming out into the portico, I leaned against the railing and gulped in the fresh breeze gliding in the night.

*********

I was drowned in calm, yet sad thoughts when two hand slipped to my waist and a hard body was pressed against my back.

Sensing the familiar breath warming the nape of my neck, I leaned back and placed my head against his shoulders.

" Is it finished?", I couldn't help asking.

" He put up quite a fair fight. But the joy of seeing his eyes roll back into his head as my knife pierced his heart was something else."

I smiled in the darkness.

" He was my husband afrer all."

Chuckling , his arms tightened around me.

" Not any more."

I nodded in realisation.

" Not any more."

Valentine made me turn towards him and pressed those sinful lips of his to mine.

His hands slithered up to the back of my head and pulled out the string that held my mask.
It fell to the floor as my mouth continued demanding more of him.

Parting his lips from mine, his fingers lightly brushed the healing scar beneath my eyes.

"Derrière chaque masque il y a un visage et derrière c'est une histoire."

Behind each mask there is a face and behind it is a story.

I placed my palm over his and my heart clenched at the pain and anger I found swirling in his eyes.

You scarred me for life, Dante.

And I gave you back what was due.

In the night filled with nothing but calm and serene silence, our eyes spoke words , promising a future together ,destined to fight for the love unfound.

Word count: 1200 words
Translation: La Máscara- The Mask

This is just a random one shot I wrote. The idea just popped into my mind.
Hope y'all enjoy it.
Byeee♥️