A Veil of Betrayal

Chapter Five.

Layle makes her way into the Ballroom, which was thankfully in full swing, without any disturbances. There was a cheery dance going on, involving lots of skirt swishing and clapping. Layle watches in awe as the two rows of men and women move in perfect synchronisation. She makes her way over to the tables piled high with treats, sweet curd's and egg fritters,  and drinks, some wines that look older than she is. Layle takes a glass of something, with an air of confidence as if she has drank it a thousand times before. However, she has to fight the urge to spit it out as it bubbles fill her nose and she sends her into a fit of coughing. She's busy pretending like that never happened, and is trying her hardest to become shadow when a tall, muscular man begins to walk in her direction. The first thing that she notices about him, other than the fact that he must be weighed down by a ton of metal armour is that he has a long, white scar on his cheek. She looks around, thinking that he must be walking over to someone else, surely, but then he stands beside her, and they watch the crowd dancing together. There's a brief silence before he turns to her and speaks. "Your leg is bleeding, my lady." Layle looks down and realises that some blood is beginning to soak through the gauze and silk of her dress. "Indeed." She replies, trying to think of an explanation. The man looks at her again, and holds out his hand to shake hers. "Sir Kian Galt, Captain of the Royal Guards, at your service. Do you need medical assistance?" Layle doesn't accept his hand as she is filled with pure horror when she finally places his voice, and realises that this man is one of the guards that was mere meters away from her while she was about to steal the very dress that she was wearing now. "Um. No. No thank you, sir." She replies and his brow knits. "Are you sure? Because that's a lot of blood-" He's interrupted by the arrival of a beautiful young woman who is followed by an entourage. Her hands are clasped in front of her dark green velvet dress with side lacing, trumpet sleeves and an embroidered gold cincture with decorative tassels hanging loosely around her slender waist. Her hair has a veil woven into her two braids and Layle is taken aback by how much she looks like Queen Summur. "I just adore your dress!" She says, showing too many white teeth. "It looks awfully like the one that I bought, in fact.  And...Are you wearing it the French way?" She asks and Layle blinks. "Um. No?"  Kian winces. The girl cocks her head to the side and widens her eyes. "Really? That is peculiar. I've never encountered a lady who does not get her dress tailored before the most important ball of the season, that's all." She turns and looks up at Sir Kian and bats her eyelashes. "You haven't introduced me to the lady, Kian." He purses his lips and decides to finally speak. "Her Royal Highness, Princess Eloise Osanos." 

Layle is pacing in the walled maze outside. She needs to return this dress as soon as possible, but she also needs to somehow sneak into the infirmity. Maybe she should have accepted Sir Kian's help, and let him lead her down there...And then what? He would have probably interrogated her on why she was here, why she was bleeding, who she was. She only did this to try and help Eve, and get in there, because servants need explicit permission to visit that wing of the castle and she was sure that even on a night like this, there would still be guards outside it. And then they would be wondering why a common maid was wanting to get in there and everything would spiral, spiral more than it already has. She was supposed to remain unseen for the entire night, not to be noticed by the goddamn Princess of the entire country while wearing her dress- 

"Are you alright?" 

A voice jolts her from her thoughts and stops her pacing. A man with golden hair is standing a few meters from her, concern etched on his fair skin. She wants to scream at him, no, she is not alright, she was probably going to be hung for treason or something before the morning was out and she can. Not. Breathe!

"Perfect." She hears herself say instead and blinks quickly a few times. The man hesitantly approaches her, smiling. "Are you sure?" He asks again and she nods briskly, her hand on her stomach, trying to remember how to breath properly.  He notices and his eyes crinkle slightly. "I know, I know, I have that effect on women. A few kisses and you'll be sorted." Layle feels her face warm and even in the darkness he notices that too. "I'm Prince Caspian Osanos, it's a pleasure to meet you.  Layle's smile drops. What's with the entire Royal Family approaching me tonight? she thinks. Caspian frowns as she stares up at him. "Is there something wrong?" He asks her gently and Layle blurts out the first thing she can think of. "You don't look like your portrait." 

He gawks at her for a second before bursts out laughing, leaving Layle rubbing her neck awkwardly. "Well, it has been sixteen years since it was painted. Did you really think I was still three years old?" Layle begins to laugh as well. "I-I don't know! I've never seen you before." He quietens down, still grinning. "That's right. And I haven't seen you before either. I would remember if I had, because your face is one a man could never forget, even if he tried his hardest. What is your name?" "Layle Farley, Your Majesty." she replies, and he scoffs at the title. "Please. Layle. Call me Caspian, I insist. Where is your mother? I'm sure your parents wouldn't approve of you being left unsupervised in such surroundings with a man, even one as handsome as I am." Once again, Layle tells the truth. "My mother is dead. She died giving birth to my sister." Caspian's smile softens. "I am sorry, I did not know. But I'm sure she was very beautiful, if she had you." Layle is not used to so much flattery and looks at her hands nervously. Caspian waves his arm around the garden and offers her one more smile. "Would you like to go for a walk with me?"