The Masquerade
3
----------------------------------------
Astra’s mind raced as she waited for Athena and Theo, her instincts clashing with fragmented thoughts, struggling to make sense of everything she had witnessed.
The purple smoke lingering around Thomas—was it the same force that had attacked him in that viral video? If so, it confirmed her suspicions: Thomas was merely a puppet, bound to a darker force he reverently referred to as “My Lord.”
This entity, this “Lord,” was the true source of Thomas’s newfound power, much like what had happened to Tiffany. But who, or what, could grant such power?
Why would an ancient evil—if that’s what this was—concern itself with something as mundane as a senatorial race? Power and influence were sufficient reasons for Thomas, but what about this entity?
Power? The puzzle pieces didn’t fit. Why choose Thomas, of all people? Once considered the weakest contender, the underdog, he had inexplicably become the target of this entity’s efforts, even risking exposure to guarantee his success.
Her thoughts were interrupted as she spotted Athena and Theo at the far end of the mezzanine.
The couple swiftly navigated through the finely dressed crowd, avoiding a pool of spilled wine and shattered glass. An event manager stood nearby, her barely contained anger simmering as the frazzled server tried to explain.
“You see, it’s all about chemistry,” the server stammered, wringing his hands nervously. “White fabric and red wine—they’re destined for each other. Like star-crossed lovers!”
Amused murmurs rippled through the guests. The manager’s eye twitched dangerously, but before Astra could witness the impending outburst, Theo’s broad frame blocked her view.
Astra thickened her magical barrier, ensuring their conversation remained private from Thomas outside.
"Astra, you're sure about this?” Theo's silver eyes blazed with intensity, his presence vibrating with barely contained power.
“The purple smoke—you can sense it around…?” Athena said, her gaze darting toward the balcony. “…him?”
Astra met Athena’s concerned gaze. "Still want to see for yourself?"
Athena nodded. "We need to investigate its origin. If we capture Thomas now, what if it hollows him out, like Tiffany?"
“Thomas knows what you can do, Athena," Astra whispered.
Athena’s features hardened. "I sensed that as well… but we must take the risk. We can’t underestimate him, and we can’t make a move until we know more. This investigation into the purple smoke is more important than the Senate race. Are we committed to the plan?”
Theo frowned, mulling over Athena's words. Finally, he nodded. "We need to keep playing nice for now," he agreed, turning to Athena. "We'll move when you give the signal."
“I'll stay here so it doesn't look suspicious," Astra said, dissolving the barrier with a flick of her wrist. “Besides, Thomas has been bonding with his wine glass for a while.”
With a slight smile at her quip, Theo nodded. “Thank you, Astra,” he said, inhaling deeply before he parted the thick curtain.
A burst of chilly air flowed in as Theo opened the door. Outside on the balcony, twilight spread across the horizon, its glow reflecting off his silver mask. Distant thunder rumbled like a warning.
Thomas Blackwood stood with his back turned to them, lazily swirling a glass of red wine. His movements were unhurried, as though neither the approaching storm nor their arrival held any weight in his world. When he finally turned, a knowing smile was already curled at the corners of his lips, as if he had been expecting them all along.
“Ah, Ms. Van Nassau and… Lord Whitlock,” Thomas greeted them smoothly. “What an unexpected pleasure. How may I be of service?” His gaze drifted briefly to the roiling clouds above. “Surely, it’s not just for the fresh air?”
Athena stepped forward first, her tone polite but sharp. “Mr. Blackwood, if you wouldn’t mind, we need to have a word.”
“Please,” he replied, extending a gloved hand toward her. “No need for such formalities. Thomas will do. After all, we’ve crossed paths enough times, haven’t we?”
Athena accepted with a chuckle that didn't quite reach her eyes. “Then you’ll have to call me Athena, or this exchange will feel terribly one-sided.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Thomas's lips curved into a charming smile, his gaze never leaving hers. "Athena it is, then. Forgive my earlier disappearance—entertaining so many can be... draining, as I'm sure you understand." He brought her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss against her knuckles. The gesture was both courtly and slightly mocking.
Athena withdrew her hand gracefully, her golden eyes gleaming as they bore into his. “Draining, yes. But the right company can be… rather refreshing when carefully selected.”
Astra’s lips twitched in silent approval. ‘Ah, there it is,’ she noted, feeling the subtle unravelling of Thomas’s mental defences as Athena worked to soften him for the deeper invasion of his thoughts.
Thomas’s smile wavered for just a split second before he regained his composure, shifting his gaze away from her and fixing it on Theo, who stepped forward with no effort to mask his bluntness.
“Theomund Whitlock,” Theo stated plainly, his tone carrying none of the usual social niceties.
“Ah, Lord Whitlock,” Thomas replied, drawing out the title as if savouring its weight. “Always a pleasure.” As they shook, Astra’s sharp eyes caught the tension that surged between them.
This wasn’t a handshake—it was a challenge.
Theo’s knuckles whitened, and for a moment, Astra felt the faint shimmer of arcane energy rippling around his hand, undetectable to all—almost. His expression darkened, fully aware of the strength Thomas hid beneath his polished exterior.
Thomas’s smile never faltered, though his grip tightened, effortlessly matching the pressure Theo exerted. With narrowed eyes, Theo chose to break the handshake first, letting his hand drop with a slight distortion trailing behind it.
Astra arched an eyebrow. There was clearly more to Theo than she had initially realised. Still, one would expect the heir to one of Silverkeep’s most powerful Arch Dukedoms to have already mastered the nuances of political power play.
“I hear Silverkeep has been quite lively these days.” Thomas remarked, raising his glass while briefly glancing at Theo and Athena, who stood empty-handed. “Power shifts, alliances… it must keep things rather interesting for someone in your position, Lord Whitlock.”
Theo’s smile tightened. “I regret to say I’ve had little involvement in such affairs. My time has been devoted to my studies.”
Thomas tilted his head. “Interesting, especially considering Silverkeep’s esteemed legacy of knights and their mastery over ice. One might think that such training would be more appropriate for someone of your stature, rather than pursuing academics continents away in this distant land.”
Astra caught the subtle probing in Thomas’s words, the way he danced around Theo’s lineage. He was testing the waters, gauging how much Theo might let slip.
To everyone's surprise, Theo removed his mask. His silver eyes, usually guarded, now twinkled with an unexpected spark.
“I’ve come to realise that knighthood has become an anachronism,” he rumbled. “Perhaps that’s why my father sent me here—to St. Kevin’s. To find answers in the future.” He took a moment to reflect. “The knight’s honour… it’s a legacy of restraints that ties us to a past that has lost its relevance.”
Athena blinked, and Astra, though outwardly calm, couldn’t help but note the shift in Theo’s perspective. It always struck her as odd whenever he displayed his power. Precise and controlled, yes, but also chivalrous—traits inherent to his bloodline. Was that truly all he had? Ice blades and brute strength? Silverkeep felt like a factory for pompous heroes.
What had changed?
Thomas’s eyes gleamed with genuine curiosity. “How enlightening,” he observed, swirling his wine glass. “The Heir of Archduke Magnus Whitlock, daring to challenge the foundations of his ancestry. Some might view it as… heresy.”
Theo returned his gaze without flinching. “Others might call it an essential change,” he shot back, the tension between them intensified by a booming clap of thunder.
Athena cleared her throat and promptly took control of the conversation. “In any case, St. Kevin’s is famous for its diverse talents. It gives Theo a wider perspective, one that won’t trap him in outdated norms.”
“Of course, how could I possibly forget St. Kevin’s impressive reputation, particularly since my dearest daughter… once attended?” Thomas said, taking a leisurely sip of his wine, his tone turning subtly threatening.
“We all regret what happened,” Athena replied, lifting her chin and maintaining her gaze.
“An unfortunate ‘accident,’ indeed. I’m aware,” Thomas shrugged. “Still, I must sincerely apologise for my… regrettable behaviour at the academy, Ms. Athena. I hope we can consider it water under the bridge?”
“After what happened,” Athena said quietly, her golden eyes locking onto his, “your anger is entirely justified.”
Thomas nodded. “I appreciate your understanding.”
To anyone else, Athena’s eyes might have seemed ordinary, but Astra felt the shift immediately. Athena had activated her power, her gaze sharpening with that lethal, icy focus Astra had witnessed only a handful of times before.
Unlike Adrian’s more overt displays of energy, Athena’s abilities were a silent, undetectable predator. And that made her far more dangerous. She wasn’t just watching Thomas—she was dissecting him, slipping past the layers of his mental defences, and reaching deep into his memories.
A faint clink of glass pulled Astra’s attention. She glanced at the cleaner, carefully tidying the floor. But her mind lingered on the server’s earlier odd behaviour.
Since when did staff deliver drinks to this secluded upper level? A place reserved for private discussions. It could’ve been an innocent mistake, a staff member new to the unspoken rules. But could it have been intentional?
The event manager’s earlier outburst, right after Athena and Theo caught up with her, replayed in her mind: “You aren’t supposed to be here!”
Too neat. Too convenient.
Astra’s senses reached out, searching for the source of the unease prickling beneath her skin. Something dark, something dangerous had lingered where the server had stood. She cursed under her breath—too focused on Thomas to have felt it sooner.
Where had the server gone?
Astra took a step toward the stairs but stopped abruptly, her pulse quickening. Was this all meant to mislead her? To pull her away from Thomas? She felt it—the nagging certainty that she had missed something important.
She remembered Thomas’s exchange with the smoke entity, the mention of a grand plan. Could the race really be all that mattered? He was already leading in polls and odds, so what was the real endgame? Did Athena and Theo have a part to play?
If Thomas knew the full extent of their powers, then—
Damn it.
The clock caught her eye—five minutes until Thomas took the stage. Five fleeting minutes to unmask the one controlling him and figure out whether they were all being lured into a—
Trap.