*Janus*
Tonight was the Queen’s yearly mask ball, and I found myself already there, waiting. Ruby would come later—she was still at the cathedral, healing everyone who needed her, as always. Sometimes I wondered if Lucrezia knew just how much of my wife’s time she was stealing away. Lately, Ruby barely made it through the door before collapsing into bed, too exhausted to do anything but sleep. I missed her, more than I wanted to admit, and the ache of it was starting to settle under my skin.
But it wasn’t just that. I could feel it—Ruby still hadn’t told me everything, even though she promised there would be no more secrets between us. I suppose I was just as much to blame, never quite finding the right moment to ask, always afraid of making things harder for her. She was stretched thin, healing at the cathedral all day, then pouring whatever was left of herself into the twins. Sometimes I felt guilty that I saw more of Alexander and Seraphina than she did. They were growing up so quickly—at least, that’s what all the mothers in House Yuwen liked to say. Ruby was glad they were thriving, but I could see the shadow in her eyes when she realized her absence didn’t seem to trouble them. They were content and cheerful until she appeared, and only then did they remember to cry, as if they suddenly remembered what they’d been missing all day.
Lately, the number of patients Ruby healed each day had started to dwindle, and she was coming home a little earlier, enough that tonight she could finally join me at the mask ball. The social season was already a third over, and yet we hadn’t attended a single ball together since the celebration for the little prince’s birth. By now, I should have lost count of how many dances I’d been to, but this year, everything felt out of step. Too much had happened, and the nobles’ careful plans had been scattered, leaving all the parties and balls to pile up at the end of the season, sometimes two or three in a single day.
I’d arrived about an hour ago, wearing a black fox half-mask, flanked by my brothers. Jack, ever the peacock—literally, tonight—was weaving through groups of women, asking for dances and mostly being turned down. The only times he succeeded, he pretended to be William, his twin, who wore the same mask in opposite colors and barely had to lift a finger before women came to him. Jack, in his jackal mask, kept to himself, staring into his glass, lost in thought, much like I was. Avarell claimed his mask was a deer, not a fawn, but he still hid behind Jack’s scowl, trying to avoid the younger noble girls who refused to take no for an answer.
I half expected I’d have to hide behind Jack, too, but no one even glanced my way. Not even Gertrude bothered to show up. Bored and a little frustrated that Ruby still hadn’t arrived, I found myself drinking more than I should. My eyes wandered, searching for her, but instead landed on a stranger—a woman beautiful, though not as beautiful as Ruby, of course, in a riot of feathers, her dress high-necked with a choker, her back and arms bare and no chest to speak of. Long blond hair spilled down her shoulders, and her face was hidden behind a parrot mask and a fan bristling with more feathers. Noblemen surrounded her, all eager to guess her identity, and she clearly relished every moment of their attention.
Rika had also shown up, wearing a simple blue half-mask, and, to everyone’s surprise, was dancing one dance after another with the Ivory King. She corrected him every time he stepped on her foot with a scowl, yet she kept on dancing. When she noticed me watching, her face softened and then turned red as a tomato.
And then, at last, I saw her—Ruby. We hadn’t told each other what mask we would wear; it was a bit of a surprise. She wore a wide, fluffy dress, a rabbit mask, and an oversized, impossibly soft-looking tail, all of it white as fresh snow. Even with the room spinning a little from the wine, I knew her instantly: that pale skin, white hair, and those red eyes, like two drops of blood in a drift of snow, watching me from behind the mask. She smiled at me, a smile I didn’t recognize, but somehow it felt oddly familiar.
She slipped her arms around me, giggling, and as she pressed close, a new scent drifted over me—something soft and unfamiliar, curling around my senses.
“Finally, Ruby, you’re—hic—finally here… Is that a new perfuuume? Gods, everything’s spinning, but you—” I blinked blearily and grinned. “You smell different. Nice. Soft. Like—uh, rabbits? Or clouds? Or... something.”
Ruby looked up at me, her eyes wide and uncertain, before hastily looking away, her face burning bright red. She fiddled with the edge of her sleeve, shifting her weight from foot to foot as if unsure what to do with herself.
“Um, yes, I—I’m trying a new one. D-Do you like it?” Her voice trembled a little, and she kept her gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder.
There was something strange about her voice tonight, a note I couldn’t quite place.
“Your voice sounds different. Are you... hic—sure you’re alright?”
Ruby kept her gaze down, fidgeting with her hands. After a long, awkward pause, she cleared her throat softly and said,
“Oh, um, yeah, I’m alright—just a bit of a sore throat,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper, as if hoping I wouldn’t press her further.
A sore throat, but why wasn’t she healing it? Had she spent so much mana today that there was nothing left for herself? My thoughts tangled up with the wine, and my mouth felt slow and heavy. I opened it to mutter something about the damn church, but Ruby was already tugging me away by the hands—my brothers’ faces blurring past as she led me, giggling, through the crowd. My legs felt all wrong, like trying to walk on a ship in a storm. We staggered toward a quiet sideroom, the kind nobles pretended were for ‘catching your breath’ but everyone knew were for... other things. I nearly tripped over the threshold and barked a laugh.
As Ruby searched for an empty room, a muffled moan drifted from behind one of the doors. She didn’t hesitate; she just pulled me into the first empty room we found and locked the door behind us, her urgency making my heart race.