Raw Emotions

The lady began fanning herself casually and Clarence made no effort to hide his smile. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat.

"Yes, my lord. I'm sorry for interrupting."

I dropped a quick, painfully awkward curtsy and stepped away from the group. It took all I had not to run away. My eyes were swimming with tears. They stung my eyelashes as I stumbled down the hall. Busily trying to blink them back, I remembered too late that Luceyado was near the front doors and not the ballroom. I almost bumped into him. 

"Miss Phillips," he greeted me, stepping clear just in time, "you are with us again," he eyed me from beneath his golden mask, "and you seem...distraught?"

"Really? You couldn't hear them?" I snapped ferociously, flicking away one particularly burning teardrop from my eye. 

"I make it my business not to eavesdrop," he answered professionally. "It dampens the guests' spirits if they detect the staff is intrusive."

"Then you're more considerate than the guests, Mr. Luceyado."

"Tut, tut, young lady, I only do my duty," he said. His face seemed to glow from my approval. Then, noticing my obviously flushed cheeks, he grew serious. "Oh—oh dear, your words were spoken from experience." 

Biting my quivering lip, I simply shrugged. I didn't trust myself enough to give a verbal response.

"Oh, this will not do. Tell me, who upset you, Miss Phillips?"

"It doesn't matter," I said. "She wasn’t going to stop until I cried."

"She?" 

The steward's eyes darted past me like a hawk. At once, a knowing smile crossed his face. 

"Ah, the Countess found another whetstone to sharpen her tongue on?"

"She's a countess?"

"Indeed, the Countess Litonia, as known for her wealth as she is for her—how to put it?—incisive remarks."

I breathed heavily, "Yeah. It was her, then."

"It was she," he corrected. "Well, never mind her, Miss Phillips. She doesn't deserve the satisfaction of dispiriting you. Come, come, you are young and the ball awaits you. There will be time later to socialize with the master."

"I already have, thank you," I broke in, taking the reins of the conversation, "Please tell Garrett he shouldn't walk out on people without telling them he's leaving. It's very unnerving and I doubt it's a part of the staff's protocol. Good evening, Mr. Luceyado."

I nodded my head and left him, after allowing him to bow his farewell. The only way back to the ballroom would take me past the scene of my latest fiasco. Steeling my courage, I walked back down the hall. Holding my head high as I passed Masquerade and his two companions, I deliberately kept myself from exchanging glances with any of them. 

As Luceyado said, I mustn't give the Countess or Mr. Clarence the satisfaction of seeing my spirits dampened—because they were dampened. As soon as I entered the ballroom, I ducked to the very edge of the room, away from the immediate gaze of anyone. My fingers ground hard against each other, and I breathed heavily through my nose. 

Did they think that was why I was here? Did they seriously believe I wanted to rake my ankle on a vine, have it gashed by some lady's stiletto mid-dance, and oh! why not get crushed on the ballroom floor, just for good measure?! 

"Sabotage Lord Masquerade!" I murmured angrily, "I don't even know the guy! And of all the people I could sabotage here, he deserves it the least!"

Then why did you want to see him again so soon?

"He wanted me to come back to the—"

Don't pull that on yourself! Admit it, you hoped he would ask you to dance with him!

"Yeah, so? There's nothing wrong with wanting to dance with the sanest person in the room."

That's not the point. He makes you feel safe.

"Okay whatever, I feel safer around him," I tried to make it sound casual.

Like you did when Steve was in Chemistry class, too?

"Oh, shut up!" 

How about Jake in PE? 

"Cut it out!" 

My self-argument propelled me from my hiding place. I hurried toward the crystal doors. This was not the time nor the place to have a conversation with myself. Just as I neared the doors, the fatal blow fell.

Does he make you feel as safe as Bernie did when you moved to Philadelphia?

I slammed my hand against the golden doorframe. Thank God, there was enough laughter and movement to mask the sound, though I knew there wouldn’t be enough to drown my voice if I cried. 

I thought I was over Bernie, over Jake, over all the boys who worked my heart down to that raw feeling of helpless loneliness. What was I doing? Why was I groping for a stranger who didn't even know I existed before tonight? A stranger I didn't know existed before tonight! 

Why couldn't I get a high for someone more in my sphere of influence? Masquerade was filthy rich and I was dirt poor in comparison. He was the soul of compassionate grace and I was to awkward to do anything right around him. My awkward curtsy came back to me.

Don't start down that track, Jenna. You'll never make it back in one piece.

I shook my head and leaned against the door. I was calmer now, but perhaps I should still go outside. I wasn't really inclined to see anyone right now, and in any case, no one would be asking me to dance.

"Lord Masquerade sure won't," I shrugged, "If the host won't miss me, why would the guests?"

...you mentioned him again...

I raised my head with a groan. Before I could think of a counterpoint, I noticed the darkened contours of my face reflected in the glass. Reaching up, I touched the thin embroidery of my mask. The reflection did the same. 

"So it's true...I really did have a mask all along."

I don't know why, but an unexplainable sadness came over me. I rebelled the mask's presence, maybe because I didn't know what it meant. It just appeared on me out of nowhere. I know everyone else said they could see it there, but they didn't have it magically spawn on their face at a very inconvenient moment! 

Whatever. I needed some fresh air. Pressing on the door, I softly pushed it open. 

The glass door glided smoothly away from me. Through the opening, I saw the familiar, dimly-lit hall. For some reason, a warm feeling sparked inside me. I felt like the hall wanted me to examine its forgotten treasures again. Slipping through, I made sure to close the door softly behind me. I faced the hall, ready to stoke its memory.

I was not expecting the sight that greeted me.

There—standing just at the foot of the stairwell—was a little girl.