Waters of Oblivion

Chapter 6.1: The Masquerade

A throng of partygoers swept Reine up as she exited the hotel. Because they were heading in the direction of St. Mark's Square, she let the mass of people lead her all the way to her destination. 

Although she was worried about getting in without a ticket, the doorman granted her admission. Alberti must have had the foresight to add her name to the guest list.

The ball took place in the palace's Grand Council chamber. It was a monumental space where up to two thousand members of the Venetian aristocracy once used to meet to discuss the political doings of the Republic. Intricate murals of Venice's history, as well as mythical scenes covered the ceiling and two whole walls. Another wall was dedicated solely to displaying the seventy-six portraits of previous chief magistrates. The gilded frames reflected the light of the electronic candelabras in every direction, throwing supernatural shadows over the guests who filled the space to maximum capacity. 

A long table – holding all sorts of delicate hors d'oeuvres, pastries, and fruits – lined the wall closest to the entrance. Reine hadn't eaten anything since dinner on the plane the night before, and she could no longer ignore the grumble in her stomach.

Venetian cuisine was as unique and just as rare as the city itself, so she loaded a small plate with a variety of sandwiches and sweets. Squeezing her way through the crowd, she found a free spot next to one of the open doors leading to the balcony.

From this vantage point, she had a perfect view of the platform where a small classical orchestra was sitting. A dance floor took up the rest of the room where couples dressed in Baroque clothing similar to hers were twirling. As she ate, she watched them move in synchronized unison to the rhythm of the lute and the accompanying tambourine.

The familiar notes – just like the portrait or her period costume – stirred something inside the young woman. Snippets of a long forgotten past – whether real or contrived – overtook her thoughts. Suddenly, Reine saw herself gliding to the music in the secure embrace of a man with wavy, dark brown hair reaching almost to his shoulders. He moved with both grace and purpose, but most importantly, he only had eyes for her. When he smiled, she knew his was the image in her locket. He was the man from the church; he was her former beloved.

Lost in the moment, Reine continued to recall the scene as though she was watching a movie. The pair moved off the dance floor toward a small group of people engrossed in a heated conversation and stopped at the edge of the semicircle of couples. The man put one hand around her waist, drawing her close to his side. With his other hand, he swept a stray lock of hair away from her eyes. Reine could still feel the electrifying touch of his fingertips lightly caressing her cheek. She now instinctively drew her hand up to that same place.

The fantasy was so vivid that it was tempting to think it was more than just her imagination, but a gentle tap on her shoulder abruptly brought her back to reality. She turned just as the orchestra completed playing a quaint pastoral. The violins and harpsichord also joined in to commence Pachelbel's unmistakable Canon in D.

"A dance, Signorina?" The man extended his hand in a deep bow so that only the top of his hat was visible.

Reine's lips were already forming the words to politely refuse when the stranger lifted his masked gaze to meet her eyes. She stared back at him, forgetting what she had wanted to say. She even forgot there was a question at all, lost in the deep blue eyes as they explored her face.

It took her a few seconds to make sure she wasn't still imagining things. "Gabe?" she asked as her voice cracked with realization.

He nodded while continuing to offer his hand as an invitation to dance. She placed her empty plate on a nearby table before accepting. Walking to the center of the room, they joined the other merrily dancing couples.