Chapter 1 - The Ring

As she came to her senses, she saw a golden ring shimmering on a necklace. It rested delicately on the dent between her collarbones, its surface glinting like a star between the layers of cobalt blue silk that adorned her shoulders. She didn't remember the ring, nor did she find it in her room. It was there when she woke and she felt as if it was a part of her. Something that someone refused to let her give away. Élodie watched her movements in the mirror. Something did not feel quite right. Her movements felt more fluent, her dress a shade too radiant for her liking. She could not put a finger on it.

"Mademoiselle? They're waiting." A mousy old lady peeked into the room, her small crooked nose entering first as she followed. She was smiling, but her eyes had a peculiar shine to them. There was no light reflected in her irises, her maid dress lacked shimmer. "I'll be there soon." Élodie ran her palms over the silk and took a deep breath. The invitation resting on the table informed her that she was expected to see someone. A lord, as she had read, of high status. If it were her home, her mother would have scolded her for her hesitation. Her house was about to go bankrupt. No coin, no accessory left in the castle grounds and still, her proud family refused to let anyone in but a nobleman.

How stubborn, she thought. Lorla didn't reward nobility anymore. There was no need for wealth and the purity of blood. She knew so as much as anyone else. Her mother and Lady Aleandra, her aunt, felt otherwise. As long as Élodie was young and pretty (as young as you could call yourself at the age of 26), she was obliged to marry a Prince or a Lord of some kind, prestigious and wealthy. Good looks or a good character were secondary, intelligence tertiary and Élodie's feelings last. She didn't agree with said hierarchy, but she was brought up in it. Still, she preferred otherwise. Adventure and research were her true passions, not love or courtship.

Élodie tore herself from the peculiar image in the mirror and followed the mousy maid to the hall. The mumbling of the masses and the gentle hum of a quartet drowned out the thoughts inside her head. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe all questions would answer themselves as she went. She pushed the door open. Warmth flooded her and the smell of a honey roast and salted potatoes filled her nostrils. There were drinks and chocolates and freshly plucked fruit, taken from the last perfect harvest. Men, women and beyond of all shapes and sizes were buzzing around, wearing the finest of gowns and suits, just waiting to welcome her into their midst. Some wore masks, barely framing their eyes, others wore hats so big and decorated, they nearly outshone the golden decor of the ballroom.

As she introduced herself to the crowd by the fireplace, the quartet quieted down. There were whispers all around as she looked up to the stage. A man, handsomely dressed in blue, purple and gold, with golden locks and eyes of blue that competed with his outfit, bowed deeply before the crowd. With his arms in an elegant wave, he stood back up. His face was adorned with a golden mask, framing his gaze. They had no natural shine. Instead they glistened like a starry night, embedded into his narrow face.

"Welcome!" The crowd erupted in cheers. "I, Adrien Durand, am joyous to see that so many of you have found your way here safely! Feast on the wine and delicacies, celebrate the night of your lives! Here, no one will suffer from pain or heartache. Be free, be fearless, be loved." He clapped his hands and as the crowd expressed its excitement, tiny people of all shapes, sizes and fur types scurried through the crowd carrying tables filled with food through the rows of guests. As they set them down, the piles of food wavered side to side. It was a miracle that the food didn't topple over. Élodie stepped closer, reaching for an apple at the edge. She watched as the apples behind it tumbled after it, pouring onto the ground.

Excitement turned sour as the crowd circled around her, gasping. The silence deafened her. "Hm? What?" She turned around, reaching down to gather the apples around her, as a hand stopped her in her tracks. Golden cuffs around their wrists.
"You have found us, too, Mademoiselle. I certainly hoped so." Adrien smiled and handed her the apple she had tried to catch. With a clap, he ushered his servants to pick up the fruit and put it back to its place. "Élodie?" The ring around her neck shimmered blue.

"Welcome home."