Lady in the Iron Mask

III: Chapter 5

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," the King told her, his gaze raking up and down her body.

Evie forced herself to laugh, and it died amongst the crowds flooding the ballroom. Outside, it was dark, so dark in fact that Evie was uncertain that she'd ever see the light of morning again. Eve was out there somewhere, confronting Ash no doubt. Her leaving so suddenly, especially in the presence of royalty, had not only been rude, but suspicious. Evie knew she had to stay behind to alleviate this, and keep up their cover whilst it was retrievable.

"Tell me: how many times has that line worked for you?" Evie cocked her head to the side in mild disinterest, wishing she wasn't stuck playing the role of a perfect effeminate maiden.

"Haha, you're good," he responded, crossing his arms, "almost too good. But alas, I never get close enough to a damsel to tell her that she is gorgeous." He gestured around himself, at the ring of guards who had already surrounded the pair.

"Ah," Evie nervously twitched, especially when a guard brushed against her shoulder, "I see what you mean. What a sorry fate for a man so powerful, to be babysat by so many guards?" She fluttered her lashes. "I thought you would feel secure in your own ballroom, Your Majesty."

"Please, call me James," he softly responded. "And yes, I am secure in my authority. But in recent times, privacy has felt a luxury. As you know, the King of Eve is dying, and I don't want to share the same fate."

Evie felt her body go tense, as she thought about the turmoil that must be occurring back in the Kingdom. But she was also alerted to the fact that even so, he had a disproportionally large amount of guards around him. More so than he should have considering that her Kingdom was within his grasp.

She moved closer to him, providing an artificial air of intimacy. Whispering in his ear, she asked him slowly and putting:

"What are you really afraid of tonight?"

His eyes widened, and he looked around quickly. Then, his attention returned to Evie and he bent his head, until their faces were on similar levels. As the music and the ballroom around them picked up in lively spirit, he grabbed her by the palms, waved his guards away and began spinning her on the floor, in a simple yet elegant waltz.

"The truth is," he told her, "is that one of my sons is plotting to kill me, and I need to remove him from my side before he becomes a thorn."

"Why are you telling me this?" Evie murmured, easily keeping up with his stride.

"Because I think you can help me," he smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "If you can help me, you will prove yourself loyal. I can pay you in many riches, and you will never know suffering again."

"What are you suggesting?" Evie's voice was uncertain, because she wasn't quite sure she was understanding him clearly.

As the music began to end, James twirled Evie in a circle at the centre of the ballroom, faster and faster. She felt dizzied by the guests, music and liveliness of the dance. Around and around their faces reflected in her eyes, showing her blurred grimaces and smirks, hidden behind aristocratic modesty. But the more she span, the more their faces peeled away to reveal the demons within them, and their secret desires. She gasped, out of breath, just as James halted her and leaned her backwards into a low, delicate pose. His mouth moved almost imperceptibly by her ear as the band concluded their song.

"Murder."

Then, he lifted her back into a normal standing pose, bowed his head and walked out of the room, all while staring at her. He waved all of his guards away, his motives too secretive for even his closest protectors to know. Evie needed no incentive. She followed.

He wove through an intricate hedge maze just outside the castle, in the gardens. Following him, Evie felt her pulse quicken in disturbing excitement. He was the hare; she was the wolf.

Even as he darted in and out of her peripheral, Evie's breathing became laboured. He had obviously explored this maze as a child, and she often hit dead ends and cursed herself for losing him, only to find that he appeared at the end of another pathway, waving to her and then disappearing. At some point, Evie threw off her irritating stiletto shoes, which ached her feet, and continued the chase. The longer he evaded her, the more frustrated she became.

For a man full of pomp, arrogance and false mystique, he was incredibly good at hiding when he didn't want to be found. There was also something exhilarating about being closed into the maze; it was claustrophobic, yet the repetitive scenery encouraged her competitive spirit. She felt she had to conquer the maze if she wanted to find him. Dashing through it now, her footsteps flew off the ground, beating into it with the same rhythm her heart thrummed.

She found herself laughing, even as she became even more entangled in James' trap. Evie knew she would never find her way out without his aid, and she would be caught once she had carried out her task. But she didn't care: he had already challenged her, and she couldn't turn back at this point.

Finally coming to the epicentre of the maze, she emerged into a small square, holding an intricate wooden gazebo. On one of the banisters of it, he perched, completely unruffled. The white of his unbuttoned shirt reminded Evie of a snow rabbit she hunted in the winter with her tribe, and her heart panted in sudden regret.

"So you managed to find me," he grinned, "Although that was fun. Most of the guards can't locate me for hours in this maze."

"Yes, Your Majesty. As you have caught me in this maze, I have also caught you in my trap."