Chapter 18
A month had passed since the attempted assassination, and the tension that had gripped the presidential palace was beginning to ease. Security remained vigilant, but the heightened alert had given way to a more relaxed atmosphere. Tonight’s masquerade ball, held at the prestigious Grand Larmont Hotel, was a testament to the world’s gradual return to normalcy—or at least its pretense.
Celestina sat before her vanity, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm light across her features. Her reflection showed a vision of elegance as her maid pinned the last golden strand of her hair into an intricate updo, adorned with delicate silver pins shaped like stars. Her gown was a masterpiece of sapphire silk, fitted at the waist and flaring into layers of shimmering fabric that seemed to ripple like water when she moved. A cascade of tiny diamonds adorned the bodice, catching the light with every subtle shift.
Her mask was equally breathtaking—a delicate creation of filigree silver with sapphire accents, shaped to frame her eyes in an elegant flourish. Its edges curled softly, like the wings of a bird mid-flight, giving her an air of mystery and grace.
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Celestina called.
President Alvada entered, holding a small velvet box in his hand. His expression was warm, but his voice carried the weight of tradition. “Celestina, before you leave, there’s something I want you to wear tonight.”
He opened the box to reveal a stunning diamond ring. The large, flawless gem glimmered under the soft light, set in an intricate silver band etched with the Alvada family crest.
“This ring,” her father said, slipping it gently onto her finger, “belonged to your great-grandmother. It has been passed down through the generations, always worn on special occasions. Tonight, you carry the legacy of our family with you.”
Celestina blinked back the emotion welling in her eyes. “It’s beautiful, Father. Thank you.”
He kissed her forehead. “You are the true beauty tonight, my dear. Now go, and remind them all who you are.”
The Grand Larmont Hotel was a masterpiece of opulence. Its marble floors gleamed under towering chandeliers, and the air buzzed with music and laughter. Guests in elaborate costumes and ornate masks filled the grand ballroom, a sea of color and intrigue.
Celestina descended the staircase, her sapphire gown flowing behind her like a wave. Her diamond ring sparkled with every step, catching the eyes of those who glanced her way. Whispers followed her—admiration, speculation, and curiosity—but she kept her chin high, her mask hiding the small smile tugging at her lips.
She accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and drifted into the crowd, exchanging polite nods with strangers whose faces were hidden behind gilded masks.
“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” came a voice behind her.
She turned to see a man in a black mask, simple but striking. It covered the top half of his face, leaving his sharp jawline and faintly crooked smile exposed. His suit was equally understated—crisp black with a subtle shimmer to the fabric.
“It is,” Celestina replied, her tone light. “Though I’m not sure how you expect me to answer when you could say that to anyone here.”
The man chuckled, his voice warm and confident. “Perhaps I’m only saying it because you’re the most radiant person in the room.”
She raised an eyebrow behind her mask, though a small laugh escaped her. “Flattery? At a masquerade? How original.”
“Ah, but the best compliments are timeless,” he countered, stepping closer. “May I?” He gestured toward her glass.
She tilted it slightly toward him. “You may.”
He plucked a glass of his own from a passing tray and tapped it lightly against hers. “To mystery,” he said.
“To audacity,” she replied, her smile widening.
They sipped their champagne, their conversation flowing as effortlessly as the music around them. They didn’t exchange names, nor did they discuss anything personal. Instead, they spoke of the absurdity of fashion, the brilliance of the orchestra, and debated the artistic merits of the ballroom’s elaborate ceiling mural.
Her laughter came easily, and his quick wit matched hers, volleying words back and forth like a game they were both determined to enjoy.
“Careful,” he teased as she reached for a second glass of champagne. “Too much of that, and you’ll be telling me all your secrets.”
“Unlikely,” she shot back, though her cheeks were warm with the champagne’s glow. “But you’re welcome to try.”
The crowd grew louder as the night wore on, the music swelling and the dance floor filling with spinning couples. Celestina and the man in the black mask lingered at the edge of the ballroom, their conversation growing quieter, more intimate.
“Do you ever feel like disappearing for a while?” he asked suddenly, his tone playful but with a hint of sincerity.
She tilted her head. “Depends. Where would we go?”
His crooked smile returned. “Anywhere but here.”
Her lips curved into a mischievous smile of her own. “Lead the way, then.”
He held out his hand, and she took it without hesitation. Together, they slipped through the crowd, unnoticed in the chaos of the masquerade.
The Grand Larmont was a labyrinth of opulent halls and private rooms, and he led her down a quiet corridor until they found a small, elegantly furnished suite.
As the door clicked shut behind them, the noise of the ball faded to a distant hum. Celestina leaned against the wall, her mask still firmly in place, though her smile had softened.
“So,” she said, her voice teasing, “what now, mysterious stranger?”
He poured two glasses of champagne from a bottle on the nearby table and handed one to her. “Now,” he said, raising his glass, “we toast to stolen moments.”
“To stolen moments,” she echoed, their glasses clinking gently.
