The ballroom was the perfect performance of civility and grace, but Kelvin could tell that its inhabitants were hiding something. Though the dresses brushed gently against each other, it was the whisper of the women always out of sight that he heard loudest. The men occasionally burst into loud laughter or pounded each other on the back, but their words twisted together without meaning. It sounded like another language for Kelvin could not make sense of it. He had huddled over in the corner, near one of the snack tables deciding which of the cream filled pastries to try first. The hush that passed over the crowd sent shivers down his neck, and he looked up to find the main doors to the hall wide open.
“Sir Wimbledon Trimestar Helgeby and Lady Francesca Galleria Ganymede, Del la Rous de Champs!” the announcer practically yelled. Moments later he continued, or perhaps he had forgotten to mention earlier, “And Valeria Francesca Cordelia Del ‘la Rous de Champs.”
Valeria was even more like a doll now than she was when Kelvin had first met her. Today she wore a golden dress accented by black and red flowers, as if she had planned to match with Kelvin’s own new suit of black and gold. Her parents were also wearing matching outfits, but most peculiar were their faces, which were extremely beautiful. Their skin glowed in the candle light. No hair was out of place, nor did their clothing ever fold or ruffle in an unflattering way. However, whenever Kelvin looked away from Valeria’s parents, he could not remember them enough to describe them. Lady Francesca has dark hair, or maybe blonde, and it was up in a bun, or maybe braided down her back. Sir Wimbledon definitely stood with confidence, but his nose could be described as sharp, and flat all at once.
“How do you like the party?” Valeria grinned when a servant came closer with a tray of cheese and tomatoes skewered on toothpicks.
“It’s certainly better than last night,” Kelvin replied. He had a vague memory of a bedroom and maybe of a meal this morning, but he could not for the life of him remember what he had done that day. He hoped she wouldn’t ask after the condition of the manor. He didn’t want to disappoint her.
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“I usually stay in the back with all the other wallflowers, but tonight I have a special guest,” she winked.
“Honestly, you don’t have to trouble yourself,” Kelvin assured. He didn’t want to put even more strain on their new acquaintance, especially since he had popped up in their mansion uninvited. If anything, he had hoped to blend seamlessly into the walls.
Valeria smiled with her mouth, but her eyes looked cold. “Nonsense, you are welcome here. In fact,” she turned to put down the glass she must have been holding, “would you care to dance?”
Kelvin had never danced before, or at least he didn’t think he had. On the one hand, it would definitely attract unwanted attention from the faceless crowd and possibly Valeria’s own parents. On the other hand, Kelvin was here by her invitation and it’s not like he couldn’t do--he looked over to the dance floor, only to be met with complex steps and an odd amount of hand waving. “Sure.”
After an awkward bow and a smirk from her, they joined hands and took to the floor. The band was just starting a slower waltz, but with a snap of somebody’s fingers the tempo sped up into what Kelvin would call a jig. He had predicted correctly that he couldn’t keep up with the indulgent arm gestures and quick witted footwork of the polished floor. What was worse, Valeria seemed a natural to the flow and beat of the music. She turned and twirled and clapped on cue, leaving Kelvin to trail behind her like a sick goose trying to form a V with a hummingbird. After the third time of almost stepping on her toes, he said, “Wait a minute, aren’t I supposed to be leading you?” He only saw her puzzled expression for a moment before he broke out and started pumping his fist. His legs moved on their own into a much simpler and comfortable pattern. A few steps to the left, then the right, turn clap, and turn again. Valeria seemed to pick up his version within seconds, because she was there with him by the second turn. It was a rush to watch some of the other nobles join in and make this fancy ball no more than a common tavern.
When the next song started up, the band played another lively tune, this time one Kelvin recognized as distinctly a peasant song. He leapt at the chance to lead again, and so it was that he didn’t notice the shadow moving across the ceiling. In a flash of a sword swinging wide and the silhouette of a man dropping from the chandelier above, Valeria was stabbed in the arm.