Young Writers Society

When in Rome, do as the Romans - or something like that, anyways. Lockwood had used that expression from time to time when he and the others of his agency wanted to sneak around pretending they were someone else. They were terrible at, going off of the complaints I had heard them make after their jobs.

But the idea of it was something I hadn't ever really understood until now.

Now being the time I accidentally ended up in a world that definitely was the one I was trying to go to, and now being the time that said world involved a castle with a royal ball. I could have snuck out, but I had no idea to go. I also had no idea how much my clothes would stick out.

Luckily, I found a forgotten, dusty set of them in a forgotten, dusty room. The clothes there were all my size, but none of them fit the aesthetic I was going for - they were all far too bright. So, instead, I went with the darkest, most mysterious I could find (the second description being an added plus) and strode out onto the dance floor.

...And immediately realized that I was woefully unprepared for what it was like to be caught up in the middle of it, instead of watching it from afar like I had in the past. But I was good at improvising - if I just acted like I knew what I was doing, no one would ever be the wiser.

Megara was having a pretty good day. The princess didn't put up much of a fight, but then, she hadn't seen the knife until it was between her ribs, and the party was fantastic.

Masks were a pretty integral part of her career. There are any number of reasons to hide one's identity when one happens to be in the business of life and death, but a party wasn't usually one of those reasons. Still, Megara enjoyed it.

She would be having a better time if her leg had healed properly, and if she didn't have to wear this stupid wig.

The heavy locks of silky raven hair were kept in place by a complicated array of pins and a length of grippy cloth wrapped around her head under the wig. Hairpins and needles were hardly different from each other in Megara's mind. They both dug into her skull and made her want to scream. They both required her to stay quiet and pretend she was having a grand 'ol time.

It wasn't that hard today, or tonight, as the gleaming stars and flickering torchlight dubbed it. She really was having fun.

She twirled about the dance floor, her false hair swinging around her hips as her ruby gown swirled hypnotically across the floor. There were three skills firmly within her possession, the art of the blade, of languages, and of dancing. All three had been used this evening.

The song ended and the first few cords of the next one rang out over the dance floor. She knew this one. She'd need a partner.

She considered going for the prince, but that was a lot of effort to put into the small satisfaction of smiling in his face while he was unaware of his beloved sister's passing.

Her eyes landed on someone else, a handsome stranger, certainly none of the lords or representatives she was familiar with, standing off to the side. By his posture, she assumed he planned to join the dance. The way there was just a bit too much energy in his stance, the slight lean toward the dance floor.

She tightened the ribbons on her mask, an elaborate thing that cost more than most peasants made in a month, as every mask here was expected to be. Nobles were pretty ridiculous on that front, but that was also expected.

She made her way to the stranger and offered a hand, "Care to dance?" she asked, adopting the common accent of the eastern nobility.

I shouldn't have known her - I couldn't have. But something about the voice was familiar, even if the accent was one I hadn't ever heard before. I tried studying her face behind the mask. Her hair wasn't familiar in the slightest. I didn't recognize the color or the style.

But I knew those eyes.

Why did I know those eyes?

A smile that was a borderline smirk danced across my lips. Here was my opportunity to fit into the crowd. I could focus on why she seemed so familiar while we were out on the floor.

"I thought I was the one who was supposed to say that," I said. My mind flickered back to all of the dances I had seen, both during my time in the jar and back when I was alive. A bow - even though it wasn't my style in the slightest - seemed to make sense.

So I bowed and grabbed her hand, exchanging my smirk for what I knew was a charming style. I had stolen it from Lockwood; he was the master of them. I would give him that much.

Megara's lips angled down in a confused frown for a second, but then returned to a pleasant smile. Why would he think he should be the one to ask for a dance?

She decided to just assume it was some odd way of flirting, like maybe he was saying he wished he'd asked her first, and let her cheeks color a little at his bow. What kingdom was he from that such a gesture of respect was used so casually?

She pulled him gently onto the dancefloor, smiling to hide her gritted teeth at the pain of walking normally. As the song continued, the melody picking up now as the dancers paired up and began the hypnotic routine.

"Where are you from?" she asked him just loud enough for only him to hear.

Something about him was familiar. She couldn't pin it to anything physical. Every last detail of him was new. Maybe it was his hair? It did bear some resemblance to that of the young lord she'd killed last year.

No, that wasn't it.

She kept an almost cheery smile as she tried to figure this new mystery out, letting herself enjoy the music and the dance between fruitless speculations.

"Nowhere too important," I said. I didn't give her a complete smile - if I did it too much, it would come off as a creepy. Instead, I kept my eyes on her masked face. Not only did it give me a chance to figure out why I recognized her, but it also gave the illusion that I actually care about the dance.

I let myself fall into the dance for a little bit. I hadn't ever danced, but I had seen enough dances to learn how to go with the music and the people around me.

"I don't think I caught your name earlier," I finally said. Now I gave her another smile. Part of me knew this was coming off as just a little flirty, but the other part didn't really care - I was just following a script.

She mirrored his smile.

"I'm Ivy," she said in answer to his question, "And you are?"

A name might help her with her dilemma.

The music picked up and the dance quickened. She groaned internally as her bad leg was forced through much more severe torture than before. She was going to murder that orchestra at the earliest opportunity.

Still, she kept her easy smile and continued to lead her partner through the dance. It was clear he wasn't very well practiced in this particular dance, and she had taken the lead almost immediately. Which was just as well with her. She'd always preferred the lead.

Even before she asked me what my name was, I knew that I wasn't going to say either of my names. My current one was too bizarre, and my past one was too painful - I needed an alias. I came up with it as soon as I asked her what her name was; I knew the question that would follow.

"Nathaniel," I said. "Ivy's a very beautiful name - it fits you."

It didn't in the slightest. Her name wasn't Ivy. I was sure of it - I had never met someone with that name before. She had to be using an alias, just like me, but I couldn't figure out why she'd want to lie. Was she in the same situation as me?

Or was something else going on?

...Now I was actually starting to get interested.

Nathanial.

The name wasn't uncommon, per se, but it wasn't the kind of name you usually found connected to people at royal gala's. This was a place for people of status. A place for those with names to reflect that status.

Nathanial was the man who sold you your daily paper or patched up your wounds after a long night, as the two people bearing that name in Megara's life showed her. Nathanial didn't dance with disguised assassins in the torchlight.

Still, she smiled. This man wasn't either of the Nathanial's she knew, that was for sure, but that only added to the mystery of him. So familiar. So new.

"Thank you," she said as though she thought that the highest of praise, "Have you ever been to one of these before?"

Maybe she'd met him at another masked ball. Just another dance partner she forgot about by morning in every way that mattered.

That would make sense. She needed him to make sense. Immediately.

She didn't have time to contemplate every tall, dark, familiar stranger she found to be attractive. And he was attractive. Not her usual type, but there was an exception to every rule.

Or maybe she just liked the mystery.

Gods, please don't let that idea cross through Briar's head. The little sadist couldn't be trusted with knowledge like Megara's attraction to mystery.

"I have," I softly said, listening to the music as we continued to dance across the floor. There were countless dancing pairs all around us, but I was paying little attention to them now - they were just the backdrop. "Not here, but at some smaller occasions."

My gaze lingered on her black hair.

"But I've never danced with someone like you," I added. I hadn't, really - I had never been invited to dance while I was alive, and had just watched from my jar when I was a ghost.

I was trying to run through names now - I didn't know that many people that fit in her age range, did I? She might have been around Lucy's age, but she certainly wasn't her. She wasn't Holly Munro, either. Marissa was dead, and this didn't feel like her. Asmira didn't look like her.

I was running out of options.

I studied her face again.

Nope, not Nikko. I would have been disgusted if it was her - she was too young, even compared to my physical age, to be pretend flirting with.

That leg was really starting to get annoying. Thankfully, the song was nearing its end. Maybe she could slip out to the gardens to rest for a second?

She would cross that bridge when she came to it, for now, she had a conversation to keep up.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked innocently. If this were one of the underground clubs in the city, she would have just assumed he meant he'd never danced with an assassin. Those of her general profession didn't typically go to such places, which would explain such a statement. But no, here she was just a masked girl who had given up almost zero personal information, and what she had given was fake.

She had to know where she knew this person from. His cryptic nature was really getting on her nerves.

"It's a compliment," I said. I hadn't expected her to start asking questions about that, but luckily I already knew how to play my role. I just had to keep flirting with her until I saw an opportunity to leave.

...Even if I really did want to stay and figure out why I felt like I knew her.

"You're beautiful," I said. She was - at least, I thought she was. Beauty standards were a bit questionable for me thanks to dying more than a hundred years ago. I never knew what was in style and what wasn't. "And in the...five or so minutes I've known you, I already feel like I've found a kindred spirit in you."

Mainly because she was lying, but I wasn't going to let her know that.

Okay, that was weird. 'Kindered spirit' wasn't exactly how she liked to be described, in disguise or not.

Still, she smiled, forced a slight blush, and continued to dance as though every step didn't make her want to scream.

"I'm afraid I don't have a response to that," she said with a half-laugh that might have been mistaken for an expression of nerves.

Just then, the music ended and with it the dance. She resisted the urge to sigh in relief.

There was a pause, then, "Would you like to get some air?" she asked, gesturing to the doors that led out to the gardens.

If she was going to go outside, she might as well not go alone. Going with someone else would make it look much less suspicious, and add to the alabi she was working on here.

...I hadn't expected the opportunity to leave to come so suddenly, but I wasn't going to miss this opportunity.

I nodded.

"Fresh air sounds perfect," I agreed. Would it be too suspicious if I booked it the moment we slipped out there, or was it better to wait until I was sure she couldn't draw attention to me leaving? I hadn't realized it yet, but I had fallen into a trap. Instead of just dancing with her and going our separate ways, I was forcing myself to keep up the illusion I was genuinely interested in her in a romantic way.

I started to head towards what I was guessing were the gardens.

Megara led him outside and found the first bench she could out of view of the windows. Nathanial could think whatever he wanted about the implications of that, but her father likely had spies on the dance floor to make sure she stayed in line, and she didn't want them getting any ideas about the bosses daughter possibly being a cripple.

There was a pause.

He was cute, yes, but now that they were out of the public eye she was forced to consider the possibility that he might try something. If he did, and a simple rejection didn't work, where would she hide the body?

She glanced around.

Just over the garden wall and a little way downstream was where the palace disposed of the bodies of those prisoners who died in the dungeons or were executed. It was a little predictable but effective enough so long as she left him unrecognizable.

She smiled up at him, trying to appear shy, "You never really told me where you were from," she prompted.

Small talk was her best bet at the moment. Just buy some time to rest up and then she could ditch him.