The Hidden Garden

The dress code had demanded a dress, and she’d obeyed, must have carefully selected the outfit, from her corset to the supple heeled leather boots that reached her knees, black as the space between the stars in the night sky, as almost everything she wore tonight was. With the skirt shorter than perhaps was considered polite, falling just above her knees, the back slightly longer than the front, it had raised several eyebrows upon her arrival, but she didn’t seem to care. He was certain that she would notice his gaze running up her body, taking in the boots, the exposed skin of her legs, the loose skirts, the silver embroidery, glimmering with each movement. He smirked at the sight of her dagger hanging at her waist, the decorated sheath hiding a blade honed to razor sharpness. It sat on a black braided leather belt slung over the top of a corset, which was probably the only ‘proper’ part of her ensemble, although to consider it modest was a push. There was no fabric overlaying the corset, nothing to hide her figure, the way her hips swished as she walked, the bare skin of her arms and neck. Diamonds glittered at her throat and ears, the necklace all but invisible, save for the sparkles of tiny diamonds set along it, the very same stones that adorned the rich fabric of the dress, along the lines of her figure. She offered him a sideways grin as she accepted a tall glass of champagne, the servant scurrying away at her notice of his lingering glance towards her.

With her hair half braided in a crown upon her head, the remainder delicately curled and left to fall in a cascade around her shoulders, leaving her face unobscured, she drew the room’s attention. She seemed to revel in the hushed silence that had fallen momentarily before the musicians once again stuck up a waltz. There were many beautiful women present tonight, dressed in ballgowns of all colours and cuts, brilliant blues, ruby reds, shining silver, but the moment she had walked in, he had ceased to notice them, for what was a peacock beside a bird of paradise. She commanded the room, as befitted any Queen, for a Queen she surely was, must be. He swallowed nervously, straightened his lapels and grinned lazily as her gaze fell upon him before draining his glass and slowly moving towards her. She met his gaze as he straightened from his bow of greeting, a challenge in her eyes as she slightly inclined her head,

“My lord,” he hesitated and cursed himself for the amusement glimmering in her eyes at his fumbling for words,

“My lady, I have seen none on this Earth in my years of life who could possibly rival your grace and beauty,” she smiled softly,

“Nor I one who offered such compliments as favours to each lady who took his fancy,”

“With a wit as sharp as the dagger at your side, I would be honoured to share your company,” she smiled, wider this time, as if she were used to men fleeing at the first words off her tongue. He offered her an easy grin in response, “May I offer to tour you around the grounds?” She pursed her lips, considering, and levelled an assessing gaze upon him,

“Perhaps.”

He silently cursed himself as she disappeared into the throng of people, dancing and standing, speaking and drinking. He lost sight of her almost instantly, and for all his experience at these parties, at the Queen’s court, he could not find her again. He had all but given up, finally accepting the offer of a dance from another, a lady whose name he had noted and immediately forgotten when the door to the ballroom opened briefly. It was a shadow, that was all, a brief flash of movement, but there was no doubt in his mind, and he could not allow himself to miss this one chance to speak with her again, just once. Still, he could not simply run now. The music was already twining through the air, forcing him to step into a simple waltz, his mind everywhere but on the dance, on Lady Whatever, and the moment a chance arose, he spun her around, into the arms of another, taking the opportunity to step away before he was missed. He’d surely have it out with his father the following day, but he didn’t care right now.

The cool night air outside the ballroom was a breath of fresh air after the warm interior, the air full of perfumes, but he was alone. She was gone. He leaned against the closest marble column, damning himself for that dance, he’d only been perhaps one minute, but it was one minute too late. He glanced up to the stars, glimmering steadily in the heavens, lighting the world for the gods who had never heard his prayers. In times like this, he was inclined to believe that they actually had it out for him, made it a game, to see how much they could each mess with his life.

A phantom passed the statue in front of him, blocking his view of the gold rendering of the Queen just for a heartbeat, so quick he might have imagined it, but no, it had been real. He started forwards, cursing under his breath when he reached the statue, no sign of anyone, no footprints, no beautiful woman hiding there. He was a fool.

He’d walked these gardens every day since he was a child, since his father was first summoned to court, but he had never noticed them until now, not really. The design was simple, a series of concentric circles around the ballroom, but it was filled with all manner of plants, even flowers blooming in the dark of the night. There, where he had last seen the shadow, seen her, a gap in the greenery, not a path per se, but it was his only option besides returning to the ball now, and he had no desire to do that.

He brushed the leaves apart, and the gap widened, revealing a path through to a hidden fountain within the garden. Images of the twin rulers of the heavens, each carrying a crown for her sister, raising them up high as water rained down, imitating the joyous tears of the gods at the creation of this world. But further, beyond the fountain, a mahogany bench sat across from him, and on the bench, there she was, grinning at his shock. He caught himself before he ended up staring and offered her a smile,

“How is it, My Lady, that you find a place that I have not seen in twenty-five years in only five minutes?”

“Perhaps, My Lord, you were never looking or listening to the world. I heard the water and was looking for a bit of peace after the noise of the party.”

“Peace? I take it the gardens are to your liking?”

“They are. I’ve often found peace in quiet and solitude,”

“And would you seek solitude now?” She tilted her head to the side,

“Right now, I am intrigued by a man who sought me out after one conversation. I should like to learn why.”

“How about that tour then? I can tell you then exactly how easily you ensnared my attention.” She smiled as she accepted the hand he held out and allowed him to lead her back to the garden, her fingers curling around his. She didn’t let go, not until he’d finished the tour, finally offering her name. Aurelia. If he never saw her again, he would remember that name for the rest of his life.