The kingdom of Rhomma was busy and buzzing, everyone was in the streets, at the markets, and in the center of it all was the castle. The large castle stood tall in the center of the captial city, but noise was streaming from every window. The towns people were decorating the streets for people of other cites and other kingdoms, the bright colors of blue, red, and gold shown through out the city. Carriages were being pulled in from all entrance of the city. In the castle the servants were busier than bees, the smells of Caramelized pears, Roast of lamb, raspberry glazed roasted duck, cheese souffle, and many other dishes. The castle ball room had to of been the busiest, everyone getting ready for the annual masquerade, but this year was the year the princesses came into age and many of the people expected this year to be spectactular, and the King was not about to disappoint his kingdom.

Bright orange hair flashed through the castle, it dodged all the servants and all the decorations, it came to a stop as it found it's way to the kitchen. The girl smiled happily as she entered the kitchen and she saw the chef busy with work, she quickly dashed over and sat up on the counter and she gave the man a smile and said "So, what'cha cooking?" The man's brown eyes flickered to the girl and said "That is for you to find out tomorrow. Now, get off my counter." His stern voice made the girl look at him with a bit of disappointment, but yet she kept on the counter. "Aw, come on. Tell me! It's going to bug me all day.' He turned and looked at her and said "Aren't you supposed to be at a fitting?" The orange haired girl jumped up and said " Oh, j'ai oublié! I've got to go!" She gently jumped off of the counter and she ran out of the kitchen hearing the man chuckle slightly.

When she got to the fitting area she saw a girl around her age, long brown hair and brilliant green eyes getting fit in a forest green dress with golden outlining. The ginger haired girl rolled her eyes and said "Don't you wear anything other than green?" The girl turned around and smiled at the girl and said "It matches my eyes, and besides I do too. I wear my blue dress sometimes." The orange haired female rolled her eyes and said "If I open your closest I feel as though I am in a world made of only green." The green eyed girl rolled her eyes and said "At least I don't wear a different color every single day, I didn't even realize there were that many." (Okay, I'm just going to call her orange until further notice) Orange rolled her her large grey eyes and said "I just experiment." The brunette sighed and said "Your dresses are over there, go 'experiment'." Orange sighed and walked over and she began to look through the dresses, she liked them all, she did choose all their colors but she was far more interested in the masks. "Can I just choose a mask?" The emerald eyed girl looked over and said "Whatever, just keep that one for me." Orange looked over towards were the girl pointed, a green mask with golden lining and black swirls covered it.

_________________

The vessal sailed up the Savvem, Rhomma's main river and vein of commerce. The river held no less than fifteen other ships, transporting nobles and merchants to the same destination. It seemed that the whole world would convene in anticipation for the great Masquerade of Rhomma. The annual ball was always a popular event, appealing to both the rich and poor alike, but this years celebrations held particular allure, as King Krikken's daughters had come of marriageable age. Such a marriage could uplift one from poverty, bring esteem to one's family, or provide political leverage.

Aboard the vessal sat a youth, oblivious to the scuttling of deckhands trimming sails or the hollow booming of a drum keeping the wing-like oars in time. Instead he was engrossed in the small leather bound novel held in his hands. So enticed by the tale it told, the youth did not notice the thin, wirey man apprach him.
"Velicanstvo, you must be getting ready for the Masquerade!" implored the new comer, his slavic accent thick with urgency. With a resigned sigh the youth closed the book and turned to face the man.
"There is sufficient time for such on the morrow. Allow me my freedom until then, Chekovst," he replied.
"But your father..."
"I am well aware of what my father wants of me," he interupted.
"Yes, Velicanstvo," replied the man submissively. The youth turned his gaze to the shimmering blue undulation of the ship's wake, recounting the conversation held with his father two nights before.

"I-I can't do that," remarked The Velicanstvo, shock twisting his usually placid expression.
"Don't be stupid, boy," replied his father, "This is you duty to your country, and as my son. If the Rhomma Kingdom aligns itself with the Uraki nation, we will be fighting a war on two fronts. This I cannot allow." He retrieved a wooden box from the oak table that filled the cabin, handing it to his son. Opening it, The Velicanstvo found a glass tube containing a pinkish fluid.
"You will use this. I must meet with someone on the night of the ball, but when I arrive I expect it to be done. There is more than one way of ending a war."

_________________
That is not dead which can eternal lie
And with stranger aeons even death may die

A warm breeze blew from across the deck of the ship smelling like salt from the sea. Men rushed around trying to get everything ready, all talking in heavy french accents. One man stood slightly apart from the rest, one hand resting on the railing. His stomach turned with each wave that lifted the ship.
"Monsieur you are looking a little green." A shorter man lightly touched his elbow.
"I am fine, it is nothing." He turned from the man, taking a deep breath before heading below deck to grab a cloak.

The still ground beneath his boots helped relieve some of the seasickness, but it was soon replaced by a yearning for his homeland. Yes the people were friendly, and the colours were stunning but he felt as though everyone were watching him. His scuffed boots stirred up some of the dirt from around the ports, mixing with the air tainted by fish, sea salt, and the other smells that accompanied the event soon to take place. He stood on one of the docks, taking in the sight of the many ships from countries he had only ever heard of from travelers.

The man soon returned to his ship, head low as to attract as little attention as possible he slipped into his cabin. Lowering himself onto the hard bed, he wondered why he had accepted to come here. The sounds of preparations drifted in through the port hole, reminding him that he had a duty to fulfill. His boots hit the boards as he trudged up the steps once more to help the crew get ready.
"You are looking better monsieur, have you had any rest since we arrived?" The same man from before addressed him.
"I took a few moments to rest but there are things to be done as you should know." The man nodded before scampering off to another task at hand. Returning to the deck rail, the man leaned against them, letting sea spray splash his face.

_________________
“If you really love something, you never try to keep it the way it is forever. You have to let it be free to change.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes

Another ship was making its way into the already packed port and scrambling for a place to settle so its occupants could not only see the land, but reach it safely. As the final maneuvering was made, two women watched curiously. One was a short and petite girl, judging by the young hands that could be seen. Not much else could be seen, as the young lady was covered with a dark green cloak.

The Italian colors flew on a flag over her head, and it was in that language she communicated with a matronly lady standing by her side.

"Do you feel well, my lady?"
"Yes, I feel fine. Thank you. What I do not like is this. So many people, so many ladies probably wearing less than modest clothes, and behaving in licentious manner. I would prefer to be home with my mother."
"You know why your father sent you here, my lady."
"I know. To sell me, as a piece of meat. I will not, you see, I will not let myself be betrothed to some man just because he wants me to. I shall be polite, I shall dance and smile. And no more."
"Your father wants you to be happy, my lady."

The younger lady let out a laugh.
"Happy? I shall not be happy marrying a foreign man, or any man for that matter."
The older lady seemed concerned.
"My lady. You do not stick to the plan of locking yourself away in a convent."
The girl held her crucifix tight.
"It is not a plan. It is a calling. Now, enough of this. Let us go down and gather our things as they finish off with the ship. I want to feel land under my feet as soon as possible."

The Juggler balanced on one foot, tossing his five golden balls so quickly that they seemed to form one continuous ring of light. He, along with the rest of his circus troupe, were camped just outside of Rhomma’s capital city. Every year, this always proved to be their most profitable stop -- how could it not be, with so many people arriving in the days before the annual masquerade ball? Many of the travelers had money to spend and were eager to find amusing ways to pass their time before the big night.

So, for the last week, the circus has been entertaining them. The Acrobat performed daring feats, awing the crowd as he swung about on ropes suspended over a pit of fire. The Ballerina danced without ever seeming to touch the ground, her steps as quick and light as the flutter of a butterfly’s wing. The Animal Tamer displayed her mastery over a wide variety of exotic birds and beasts. And the Juggler? The Juggler dropped his balls, and pretended to trip, and generally played the fool until the whole audience roared with laughter. None of them ever seemed to notice that his tricks required just as much strength and agility as those of the Acrobat.

A soft giggle distracted the Juggler. As he glanced in its direction, his fingers suddenly went stiff, allowing one of the balls to slip from his grasp. It was the Ballerina. But she was not watching his practice session. Instead, she stood a small distance away, flirting with the Acrobat. Seeing her, the Juggler’s heart filled with a deep aching desire. He’d adored her ever since they were both children. But she only considered him to be her dear friend. Like many women, she was infatuated with the Acrobat. And who could blame her? The Acrobat was strong and brave and infuriatingly handsome. By comparison, what could the Juggler offer?

For a long time, the Juggler hadn’t known the answer to that question, and he’d pined away with silent longing. But finally he’d thought of something. Tomorrow night at the masquerade, he could gain a gift worth giving -- a gift that would finally show the Ballerina what she meant to him.

Another ship had just docked. The silver stylized fleur-de-lys prominent on the flag fluttered in the wind. Although in the opinion of the black haired lady commanding the ship, it was a bit unnecessary. After all her kingdom was very close to Rhomma. She could just as easily taken a carriage. All in the name to make just a grand of an appearance as everyone else.

So she stood, chin propped on the side, looking for longing as the shoreline came into view.

"You know Milady, your father expects great things of you."

She waved her maid off "Yes I know. Thanks for reminding me" she grumbled. Being crown princess had its perks but wasn't the most satisfying job. She'd much rather while her way at the library or in the court passing laws rather than at balls and banquets but international relations were key. She smiled. At least she would be able to see her cousins again.

Balls. Banquets. In the end its all a facade anyways. Everyone's only allies with others because it suits them. Just like everyone around her she'd put her kingdom first. If it meant betrayal and tragedy. So be it

Orange groaned slightly as she was forced into another dress, it was fun the first few, all of them very colorful, but now she was tired of all the dressing up. The emerald eyed girls sighed and said "You can't just pick any one of these, they have to say who you are." Orange sighed and she slipped out of the bright blue dress and she said "There's only a few more dresses, and besides it's just a ball." The brunette gaped at Orange's words and she sighed and said "Yeah, one of the biggest of the year! Now try this one on. I think you'll look incroyable." Orange sighed and she slipped into the long dress, it was simple yet elegant, a white silk gown with a sparkling white flower at her hip. She looked back at the brunette to see her smiling. "Yes, that one is totally you, or at least looks good. What do you think?" Orange looked back into the mirror and she gave a small grin and said "Yeah, let's go with this one." She turned back to the green eyed girl and said "There, happy? I choose one. Now, I can get back to important business." As she rushed out of her dress and back into her normal clothes, a light blue dress with golden trimming.

The brunette sighed and she sat down on a chair and said "Oh, like your running around the castle, causing who know what mischief?" The girl turned towards brunette and said "Aw, you know me so well. You should tag along sometime." The green eyed girl rolled her eyes and said "And get yelled at by dad? Yeah, no. I think I'm happy not being yelled at, thanks." Orange sighed and shrugged and said "Your loss." She was gone in a blur, running past the guards and all the servants. She was quick on her feet and she got to the stables and she smiled as she saw the old trainer and she dashed over to the old woman. "Hello Mrs. Incendie." The older woman glanced at Orange and said "Ah, so you decided to bug me today." Orange smiled teasingly and said "I know, your so lucky. Aren't you?" The woman laughed and said "Why, yes. I am, aren't I? Anyway, the real reason please?" Orange smiled and she pulled herself up onto the fence and said "Oh, nothing much. Just wondering if you could maybe, possibly, perhaps take me into town?" Batting her big grey eyes, the old woman sighed and said "I was told not to let you out." Orange sighed and she groaned leaning back slightly "Malédictions!"

_________________

The ship navigated the crowded docks in search of a quay at which to weigh anchor. Upon locationg a vacant berth a cry issued forth from its decks, spurring the sailors into a flurry of action. Sails were taken down; coils of rope unspooled and cast overboard to the grasping hands of dock workers. From the limmited view offered by the port hole, the procedings were spied by The Velicanstvo with mild interest. As the ship was secured and the boarding plank lowered into place, he made his way to the deck, the threefold 'tap-tap-clop' of his feet meeting the wooden boards followed by the steel tip of his metal cane mingled with the general sounds and shouts of the dock. A waft of fishmonger stalls, exotic spices and heady perfumes greeted The Velicanstvo. He turned to the wizened frame of Chekovst, who had taken it upon himself to manage the ship's inventory.
"Chekovst, I am journeying into the town. I still want for a mask."
"Yes, Velicanstvo. Take along some of the guard," replied Chekovst beckonning to the two men dressed in the steely grey surcoat of his father's guard.
"Bolonyev. No," reitterated The Velicanstvo, remembering his schooling. Foreign nations often found the slavic language distasteful, therefore his father had him taught to minimalise his accent from an early age. Though he would slip into his native tongue on occasion. "I will go alone."
"As you wish."

He was glad to leave the ship, and more so to be away from his father. Since he was given the wooden box, his father would always level a stern stare at him, reminding him of his 'duty.' He did not like politics, nor the underhanded moves that countries used to resolve their disputes. Least of all he hated being used as tool; a card to be played from his father's hand.

He made his way through the dockside vendors, searching for the bazarre. He knew many merchants would have flocked to the city, all eager to grab their share of the local wealth. After requesting directions from a city guard, he made his way down one of the cities main streets that lead towards the markets. He had dismissed the armed escort as he sought for not only a mask, but for something more elicit.

_________________
That is not dead which can eternal lie
And with stranger aeons even death may die

Some time during the day the man had left the deck in favor of the cooler lower decks. His cabin was unadorned with the basics, a bed, wooden chest, and a truck with his things. Lowering himself unto the bed he fell into a fitful sleep.

"No, please no! Something else could be arranged, it doesn't have to be this way." Pleading sounded from the man at his feet. The man above smiled coldly down at his victim.
"You can not get out of this. You have enough enemies out there that anyone could easily eliminate you." He played with the small knife, the blade cool against his skin. The man squirmed at his feet, his once proud demeanor now gone.
"I could pay you. You would live comfortably for the rest of your life." He noticed the bare hands of his attacker. "Maybe even get a lady." The blade stopped dancing across his fingers, a glint in his eye.
“I have an understanding that you have an invitation to the Masquerade ball in Rhomma.” The man at his feet nodded. “I'm afraid you're going to have to cancel because you will not be attending.” The man's eyes grew wide as the knife plunged into his chest. When the breathing and thrashing had stopped the man withdrew the knife, wiping the slender blade on the victim's shirt. He turned and left, locking the door behind him. It would be weeks before the body was found, and by then he would be long gone.

Waking with a start, the man tried to push this dream away. He wasn't there, no one knew about the crime, no one knew that the invitee had not cancelled his invitation even after lady death took hold.

_________________
“If you really love something, you never try to keep it the way it is forever. You have to let it be free to change.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes

The two ladies in the Italian ship had taken some time just watching the people in the other vessels, but after just a short while, they moved down to their shared cabin to put everything in order.
As the younger one made herself look presentable, the older one tidied up the room and checked the trunk with her lady's dresses.

"There is only black here, my lady", she complained, somewhat alarmed.
"I am aware of that. I chose everything myself", the younger one replied.
"Why, my lady? People will believe you are in morning."

The young lady smiled and nodded.
"Oh, that, too. But that is not my point. I want to make myself as unattractive as possible. And if possible, do not speak to anyone about me."
"What do you mean, my lady?"
"I can be just about anyone who has gotten an invitation. It is a masked ball, right? Well, let us keep our masks on at all times."
She stopped speaking and the two of them finished whatever little they had to do, before finally going ashore for some fresh air.

Tired of watching the progress of his romantic rival, the Juggler decided to go for a walk. The circus would not perform again until later that evening, which gave him several free hours -- plenty of time to do a bit of exploring. Carefully, he tucked his golden balls into the pouch he always wore tied to his belt. Then he began strolling toward the city. In only a matter of minutes, he’d joined the river of people constantly flowing into it. And since he had no particular destination in mind, the Juggler let himself ride the river like a leaf, swept along by the whims and desires of others.

This current soon carried him to the city’s central marketplace. Even on normal days, it was renown for the the beautiful and rare goods traded there -- and on the day before the grand masquerade, it was almost marvelous beyond imagining. In addition to the seemingly countless vendors selling masks and costumes, there were also silk merchants, and spice traders, and dealers in rare curios brought from distant lands. One booth displayed beautifully painted paper lanterns, while another showed off vases full of glass flowers. The Juggler possessed very little spending money. But that didn’t keep him from enjoying the spectacle.

Eventually, the Juggler’s wanderings brought him to a stand selling warm buns. The air around it was filled with the scent of honey and raisins -- smells which made the Juggler’s stomach rumble hungrily. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford the edible luxuries. But perhaps a deal could still be made? Catching the merchant’s attention, the Juggler introduced himself with a theatrical bow. Then he made his offer. “If I double your sales in the next hour, will you give me a few of your pastries?”

The merchant looked skeptical. But what did he have to lose? So, after a moment, he gave a hesitant nod. Almost as soon as the merchant agreed, the Juggler began snatching up pastries. At first, fearing attempted theft, the merchant shouted a protest. But then the Juggler’s plan became clear. As nimbly as he’d tossed the golden balls, he began juggling warm buns -- much to the delight of the crowd and the slight consternation of the merchant.

The ship docked and the Crown Princess bounded off as the ladder came down. ""

"Milady shouldn't you change into your masquerade gown?" The maid protested.

"There's still a bit of time left." the princess said. "Come on then. I want to explore the city. This time not as a princess but a regular visitor. After all we're not supposed to tell them who we are."

They arrived at a merchant's stand where someone was juggling hot buns.

"That's amazing" She gushed and giggled. "I'll take two buns please! One for my friend and one for me."

Orange swung her legs over the fence and stared to the orchards, seeing all the horses on their daily free reign. "I heard a relative of yours is coming, shouldn't you be getting ready for them to arrive?" Mrs. Incendie said while brushing one of the mare's mane, Orange perked up and said "Really? Who is it?" The older lady chuckled at the orange haired girl's reaction and said "I don't know, deary." Orange nodded looking down slightly and then she shook her head and said "At least I get to look forward to the search of my mystery family member, huh?" Her bright smile reappearing, making the old woman smile. The grey eyed girl waved her goodbye as she climbed down the fence into the field, she quickly ran to the orchards. She came to a stop when a large black stallion stood in front of her, it's coal black eyes staring down with a look of interest. "Hello, Tempête(Night)." The overly sized stallion neighed at her and she smiled and lifted her hand to his snout and gently caressed it. "Do you think you could get me out of here boy?" The stallion tilted it's head at her glancing around and he looked back at her. She smiled slightly and she moved to his side and climb up, holding onto his mane. The stallion glanced it's large black eyes up at his rider and he snorted.

"Oh, come on Tempête! Please?" Orange said as she gave the stallion a pleading look. The stallion seemed to sigh and he snorted once more and he trotted across the orchard. The guards looked up at Orange and lifted an eyebrow. "Why do you want to take Night out of the orchard?" Orange sighed and said "I just want to ride him around the gardens." The guards looked at her skeptically, but they turned when they heard a woman yelling "Oh, let the child go. She is just going out for a ride around the gardens." The men looked over at the older woman, Orange smiled when she saw Mrs. Incendie. She had always liked the old woman, the guards were terrified of her, the reason escaped her. The guards backed off and Tempête trotted past them and up to the old woman. "I was told I wasn't supposed to take you out." Winking at Orange the older lady nudged Tempête to move. "Now, enjoy out time out in the gardens." Handing Orange a cloak and Orange took it with a grateful smile and Tempête galloped off towards the gardens.

Orange smiled as she sped past many people, she knew every nook and crany of this garden, even some of the places her father didn't know. She also knew the guards blind spot, easy enough after so many times of practice. She rode around the rose area of the gardens, blue, red, pink, and yellow roses budding from everywhere. Lucky for her, they also hid an ancient door, covered in vines. Good camouflage, so good she hadn't found it until recently, and that was surprising to her. Orange slid off Tempête and she slipped on the cloak and pushed open the door. Tempête looked at her and shook his head slightly and she shrugged and said "I explored." The horse strode through the tall door and she shut it behind her, climbing back onto the black stallion. She nudged the stallion on and he sprinted forward, easily sliding through the arches and into an alive and buzzing city. Orange smiled happily as she looked around, she loved the town, it was so much more alive than the castle, other than when a party is being prepared and going into action of course.

_________________

"That be something pretty special ye lookin' for," murmurred a shady merchant as he stroked the end of a lop-sided moustache.
The Velicanstvo flung several gold coins an the counter between them. His eyes alight with greed, the merchant quickly snatched up one of the glittering disks and held it against the dim glow of a lamp, verifying its authenticity.
"I reserve no patience for your petty banter," announced The Velicanstvo. "If you cannot provide that which I seek, another will." He placed a gloved hand over the scattering of coins. Seeing the riches slipping from his grasp, the merchant sputtered, "Of course I can get what ye want. Jus' gimme till sundown to brew it up." Eyeing the gold coins between the slender gloved fingers, he quickly added, "'Course I'll be needing a... deposit - for materials an' such."
"Of course," agreed The Velicanstvo sarcasticly, yet relenting and allowing the merchant to scrounge the coins from beneath his hand.

He left the dingy store marked 'Hrogie's Tonics and Potions' emerging again into the busy streets. It was some time before sundown, and he still needed a mask. He strolled about the market place, drifting from store to stall, noting the foreign oddities on offer. Stepping into a high-end tailor, he found himself surrounded by fabric finery. Had the costumes been but occupied, he would have mistaken the room for the Masquerade hall itself. A elderly man greeted him upon his entrance. The Velicanstvo requested an outfit and a mask, and was presented with a multitute of masks, cuts, trimmings, finishes and adornments. After an hour he settled on a red coat, with matching red cape, as well as a new pair of silk gloves. The mask he chose was of simplistic design, yet elegant, complimented by a periwig. Having dealt with the neccessary preparations for tommorow's festivities, he left the store, pondering how to spend the remainder of his time.

_________________
That is not dead which can eternal lie
And with stranger aeons even death may die

Making his way through the crowds of people, the man attempted to see some of the town. From what he had seen it was a decent size with a large amount of people bustling around the streets from vendors, to street performers and everything in between.

He stopped at small stand selling masks. They came in every colour you could think of and ranged from feathered, to glittered covered, with a few simple designs mixed in. He picked up a few just to set them back down again. He already had a mask, sure it hadn't been his until a few days ago before the voyage had started but it was required that he use it.

_________________
“If you really love something, you never try to keep it the way it is forever. You have to let it be free to change.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes