Dozens of mirror balls dangled from the vaulted ceiling, painted like the midnight sky. The chandeliers’ colourful lights broke on their surfaces, enlightening the room in blue, pink, purple, and most of all, crimson. Servers in devil masks manoeuvred around us, offering golden drinks and appetisers on silver trays. The air smelled of meadows, flowers, and wooden rot, like a cursed garden. All while classical music played in the background like a whispered lullaby.
The longest night of the year. I once read an article about a tradition calledFarsang, where people ate delicious treats and paraded around in scary masks to ward off winter spirits. It seemed as though Declan used it as an inspiration for the party.
Without noticing, the crowd closed around us, and Lilian disappeared from sight.
“Where did she go?” Cecily raised her voice, trying to talk over the music and chatter.
Myra and I shook our heads, just as lost as she was. I scanned the sea of masks, trying not to let my unease show, when I spotted Alistair standing at one of the walls, overseeing the waves of hundreds of guests. He was the only person in the room besides Lilian who wasn’t wearing a mask.
“Happy Birthday, Miss,” he mouthed, or at least that was what I could read off his lips.
“Thank you,” I smiled, mouthing back, just as the twins pulled me deeper into the swirling bodies and gowns.
We should have decided which way to go before we dived into the vortex. The chaos of people was suffocating. I pushedthrough the sea of bodies, trying to reach another wall to breathe, as the twins followed on my heels.
“The birthday girl.” A champagne glass landed in my hand, cutting the path off, the mixed scent of rose and myrrh slapping me in the face.
“Declan.” My gaze moved between the boy wearing a red velvet set with a gilded lion-like mask and the empty space behind his back where I was heading just a moment ago.
“Are you ready for our dance?” He stopped the server passing us and lifted two more glasses off the tray.
It seemed like he was his old self again, no sign of the shadowed boy whom I saw in his father’s presence. The answer to his question was no. I wasn’t ready for the dance. But I also wasn’t going to admit that out loud. He held the glasses out to the twins, but I stopped his hand, the memory of the Devil’s Purse’s drinks still living vividly in my mind.
“We shouldn’t.” I placed my drink back on the tray as well.
“Are you sure?” he beamed. “We have a few more recipes?—”
My face twisted and I placed a palm over my stomach, once again glad the mask hid my expression. Even the memory of that cocktail made me dizzy.
“I think yes.” I nodded, stepping past him and making my way to the wall. Hiding behind a buffet table with a champagne tower placed on it, the three of us rested our backs against the cold stone wall, and I blew out a relieved breath.
“You’re right,” Declan grinned, all charm and teeth. “It would be hard to dance with you in that condition.”
“What condition?” Cecily asked. “Drunk?”
“Well…” Declan rotated his golden rings, one by one, the lights reflecting off the rubies in them. “The Marzouq recipes are more complicated than that.”
“They are?” I could hear her voice light with excitement. “Then, I would like one.”
She took hold of a glass with rose-gold bubbling liquid inside, but Myra stopped her, pulling her hand away from the table.
“I think we should listen to Elodie.”
“Alright then.” Declan nodded. “I’ll fetch something non-alcoholic for the ladies.” He grinned before disappearing into the crowd once more.
My gaze flitted from dancer to server to stranger across the room. Anyone here could be something else beneath the costume—watching, waiting. The masks made it impossible to tell where the danger ended and the celebration began.
Without realizing it, I was searching the room for a different reason. My eyes caught on every flicker of blonde, as if the sheer force of wanting could summon that familiar head of gilded locks and suffocatingly green eyes I was starting to know better than my own. But Preston wasn’t here. He was probably still out in the stables, doing whatever he did when no one was around. Or maybe he’d found better company…
I shoved the thought away. Why did I even care where he was? Why did I care at all?
I closed my eyes, letting the moment sink in. For too long I gave myself false hope that this party wouldn’t happen. Not only because of the strangers and the lights, but because this was my first birthday without my mum, and I would’ve much rather celebrated alone, in silence.
It hurt to swallow, but I did. Then I forced my eyes open.
The moment cracked.
A strange chill pricked along the back of my neck, like the room had shifted, even though the violins still played and laughter echoed all around me. Standing across the great hall, barely more than a silhouette etched in light, lingering between the guests like a faded memory, was the nameless ghost. She was still, watching, rooted in place even though her feet never touched the ground.
