Status has divided the town for far too long—the nobles always looking down at the commoners, while the commoners feared and despised the nobles. It caused multiple conflicts in the past. But today was the day the King had seen enough. Invitations were sent all throughout the village, beckoning everyone to come join the grand masquerade held in the ballroom. Everyone was to wear a mask for anonymity, everyone was to come together without a glimpse of the status of others—if only for a night.

As night came across the village, those invited to the masquerade flocked toward the grand ballroom. Amaris stood amongst the crowd, patiently waiting to enter the ballroom. Her red eyes scanned the crowd, pleased with the array of costumes and colors. It truly was a beauty. Amaris had always enjoyed such gatherings, where she could lose herself in the sea of mortals mingling with one another. Something about them was vibrant—lively.

Amaris went up the steps and into the ballroom, holding her dress up as she did. She was met with the warm gold light illuminated from the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling—a contrast to the dark blue skies just outside. Music filled the ballroom, a lovely harmony filled the room as the orchestra played in the corner, though subtle, it blended nicely with the chatter. It was truly a sight to behold, but she expected no less from an event hosted by royalty. Her heels clicked against polished floor as she walked through the crowd of people.

It wasn’t long before Amaris was talking to various other guests, an attempt to make the most of the gathering. Although she enjoyed the quick chat, she wasn’t exactly drawn to any of the guests. Their words easily went into one ear then out the other, and their masks didn’t do them any justice either. The few dances she had with the guests weren’t up to her tastes. It wasn’t until Amaris found her gaze drawn to one guest in particular. Anon. She knew nothing of who they were, or how they might be—just like she did everyone else.

Amaris was drawn in, already making her way toward Anon. She only hoped her intuition would serve her well. She stopped to stand right in front of Anon, her red eyes flicking up and down as she studied Anon—their posture, their outfit…

“Good evening,” Amaris greeted with a polite bow. She extended a hand as an offer, inviting Anon in. A smile graced her lips as she spoke, “Might I have the pleasure of your company for a dance?”