Chapter 116: The masquerade returns
The invitation arrived in a white envelope, unmarked except for my name in silver lettering. No return address. No sender. Just a simple, lovely card inside:
You are cordially invited to the Whitmore Foundation Masquerade Charity Ball.
This Saturday. Midnight. Black and gold formal attire suggested.
I recognized the party. I had been to it once before. We had.
Evening Caspian and I stood there for that picture—laughing, masks a little askew, his hand on the small of my back as if I belonged there. That one photo had adorned our nightstand for months. Then it vanished. Replaced, perhaps, by doubt. By distance. Now it existed as someone else's memory.
But this invitation wasn't sentimental. It was deliberate. It was almost like a dare for us to come out to face our demons.
And. I had this awful feeling about. Who had sent it.
Caspian read it once, then again, jaw clenching with each read-through. "It's a trap."
"I know," I said.
"Then we are not going Lily, we can not risk it.."
I regarded. him. "No. We are."
He. stepped back,. his frustration. boiling. just below. the. surface. "Lily—"
"He wants to trap me, Caspian. Let him try. But this time, our terms. Our turf."
His eyes darkened. "You are not a bait and I will never allowed you to be used as one.."
"I'm tired of hanging around. Staying at windows. Jumping at shadows. If he's going to show himself, I want to be the one who sees him first. I want to beat him at his own silly mind games Cass. I need this whole mess to end because I am definitely tired."
Caspian stared at me for a really long time, like he was committing me to memory before he said something he didn't wish to say. Then he let out a sigh and nodded once. "Then we go together. We keep together. You don't part from my side. You don’t go to the bathroom without telling me. If anyone touches you, even if it’s by accident, make sure to tell me. We can’t be too careful"
I put my hand on his chest gently, my voice softening. "Always."
The house was bathed in yellow light as we walked up to it. Amber-colored bulbs were draped between the stone courtyard like fallen stars just to look over the confusion below. Black and gold draping cascaded from the windows. Music hummed in the distance inside—cold, sophisticated. The atmosphere smelt rich. Not anyhow rich, old money rich.
My dress was streamlined and black, the fabric glowing like water. Caspian had a coordinating suit with gold accents. His mask was unadorned, powerful—appropriate for a man capable of commanding the presence of the entire room with just silence.
I donned a tiny lace mask, a winged shape over my eyes. I peeked in our reflection at the car window before we alighted—two beings draped in tension and enigma.
The ballroom was an excess cathedral. Chandelier crystals glinted above. Elaborate-masked guests floated on the marble floor, all silk and laughter and shadowy glances. It ought to have been enchanting.
It was like entering the maw of something hungry.
Caspian's hand crept onto my back the moment we entered, hard and unrelenting. "See anything?" he whispered.
"Not yet," I whispered.
But I felt something. A weight in the air. As if eyes were against the back of my neck.
I let him lead me through the crowds, each nerve tingling. Champagne sparkled in tall glasses. Laughter tinkled like broken porcelain. The string quartet played something sweet and slow—but only made my heartbeat ring out louder.
And then
A figure. Across the ballroom. Tall. Still. A black mask, pointed at the corners. Familiar in the way nightmares are.
I blinked.
Gone.
Just dancers. Just light.
Caspian noticed the shift in me immediately. "What did you see?"
"I thought—" I looked again, my heart pounding. "I thought it was him."
He tense beside me, gazing out over the crowd. "Where?"
Caspian's fingers slid between mine, holding me firm. "We'll find him. Hold my hand."
We pushed deeper into the crowd. Dancers twirled around us, face hidden, voices hushed. Each smile a lie. Each laugh a veil.
A hand brushed against my shoulder. I turned—merely a masked woman adjusting her gloves.
But my skin crawled nonetheless.
He was here. I could feel him watching.
I felt Caspian lean closer, his lips at my ear. “You are shaking.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
He stopped walking, guiding me behind a marble column. The noise softened there, the shadows deeper. His hands came to rest on my arms, his gaze searching mine through our masks.
"You don't have to prove anything."
"Nothing to me," he whispered. "Not your strength. Not your courage. I already know who you are."
My throat tightened. "I am not afraid of him anymore."
"You're back," Caspian said. "As long as you don't let it destroy you."
His fingers traced from my arm to my waist, warm and grounding. "We're not in this alone. Not anymore.".
Something broke in me then. Maybe the tension. Maybe all those months of concealment and flight and pretending I wasn't being tormented. I pressed into him, our foreheads touching through masks.
And for a moment, there was only us. The chaos faded. The fear dull. His hand gripped the back of my neck as he kissed me—slow, deep, a wordless vow between two hearts who would not let darkness win.
Then—
A blip.
Behind Caspian in the glass, I spotted something moving. A presence. A man in a black coat. Maskless. Observing.
My heart stuttered.
I spun.
Gone once more.
But this time I knew that I had not dreamt it.
He was here.
Nathaniel was here.
Watching. Waiting for me to let my guard down.
And I had just walked into his game like a prey that was unaware of a lurking predator. I suddenly started feeling uneasy as I searched each face in the crowd.