Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 97

Chapter 97: Masking emotions
Trace held his tongue while the women talked. When Anaisa brought up the prospect of past suitors, he cringed.

Given her background, it should have occurred to him that it was likely she had men pursue her hand before.

If Count Oakdown’s deeds and past ever came to light and Anaisa was restored to her position, she probably would have many more again, urging her to divorce her country bumpkin farmer husband and take them on instead.

He wasn’t sure at the moment how receptive she would be to such overtures. So when she looked at him over her shoulder with mischief in her eyes, his heart beat twice as fast.

She was flirting with him. Again.

He retreated deep into his thoughts as he weighed the implications. She said she hadn’t forgiven him, but obviously she was not cutting him off forever. He’d been afraid of that when she sequestered herself in her chamber for two days.

Trace dared a small smile, and Anaisa’s cheeks tinted pink as she turned away.

Progress.

“I’m nervous,” Sapphira confided.

“All you have to do is stay near His Majesty and pretend to be a servant,” Anaisa smirked. “Think how I feel!”

A knock at the door signaled the arrival of the dressmaker, and Sapphira hurried to cover her hair and look pathetic, while Anaisa disappeared to get dressed in the princess’s clothes.

Trace waited a few moments before leaving for his own wardrobe consultation, making sure the guards posted at the door would stay until he got back. A woman with black hair and blacker eyes was amongst them, her skin like pale porcelain.

The new magic user Sanders had found?

Trace wondered idly what her power was, but of course he wouldn’t be welcomed into the chambers so long as any kind of dress fitting was going on. With a last look, he headed down the hallway.

He had to stop and ask for directions to the royal tailor’s chambers, but made it there in relatively short order. Thankfully, the king had already sent instructions, and Trace did not have to explain himself or his needs to the man.

He was measured and prodded and measured some more, and it was promised that he would have a fine costume by the ball’s beginning despite the extremely short notice. Trace was not consulted at all on colors or style.

He didn’t know what to make of that, but he supposed it was only his job to follow orders, not have opinions on fashion.

Not that he knew one single thing about fashion; his farming clothes were functional and little more. His guard’s uniform was by far the fanciest suit he’d ever put on, but it seemed his ball costume would be something entirely different.

Trace shrugged. It didn’t matter that much; what mattered was that it would put him in disguise and make him better able to keep Anaisa safe. With the mask, it might have the added bonus of keeping him temporarily hidden from Count Oakdown; that man would be readily recognizable since Trace had a sketch of the yellow and green outfit the man would be wearing to attempt to secure the princess’s heart.

At least, that was what Trace gathered the plot was. Nothing else made much sense. He’d confirmed that the lords didn’t stay in the palace, but retired to their own homes, so he couldn’t even try to glean more from the count’s dreams.

He felt helpless. There was nothing he could do. Even if there was, he wouldn’t be allowed to attempt it.

The best he could do was protect his wife, and the princess, as much as he could. At least there was no possible benefit at this point in harming anyone. For Oakdown, at least. They still hadn’t discovered who was responsible for poisoning the queen’s snacks. There could be more Foundrel assassins or plots afoot, trying to disrupt the royal function and get a rare chance to see the princess in person.

“How many are coming to the ball?” He asked the tailor idly.

“Oh, everyone.” The man looked at him with surprise. “All the nobility, the finest soldiers from the war, and all the upper class of tradesmen, even. His Majesty extended an invitation to myself and my wife!”

His chest puffed out with pride, and Trace smiled. It must be quite a treat for commoners, even rich commoners, to receive such an important invitation.

“That sounds marvelous,” Trace smiled. “I’ll be happy to see you there.”

“You won’t recognize me,” The man waved his hand dismissively. “The masks will equalize everyone.”

“You’re making all the masks for the attendees?” Trace’s brow furrowed.

“Oh, not everyone, but most of the men, certainly. Especially the nobility.” The man bragged.

“So you’ll be in a position to most easily recognize any men that I need to identify… as part of my work for the king,” Trace tilted his head.

“I will be any help I can to His Majesty,” The tailor replied with pride in his voice.

“Have you made any costumes or masks in green and yellow?” Trace grimaced, but the question came out. He was trying to find information, not reveal it. That apparently did not constitute an attempt to thwart Oakdown.

“No. That would be an unusual combination of colors for this season’s fashion,” The tailor shook his head. “Now, Gold and purple, that is in fashion! I must have made two dozen costumes with variations on that theme. Perhaps I should have done yours the same, since the king wanted you to blend in…” He frowned.

“I’m sure all of your work is beyond compare, or His Majesty would not trust you so much,” Trace assured him. “Whatever you have chosen to make for me will be marvelous. What will your costume be?”

He wanted to stay on the man’s good side in case he should have need to identify anyone during the ball, but he would also need to recognize the man for that to be an option!

“Oh,” The tailor touched the side of his nose conspiratorially, “Let me show you my mask. I think you’ll find it rather shocking.”

The man went to a chest in the corner of his workshop and carefully pulled out the creation. Holding up to the light, he looked delighted with the results of his work.

The mask was black and white, covering the whole face, with cutouts only for the eyes. The fabric stretched over it was subtly embedded with clear beads which added depth and intricacy to it.

“Astounding craftsmanship,” Trace complimented. “What will mine look like?”