Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night(whichever one it is in your part of the world),
Hi! I'm Knight Hardy here on a mission to ensure that all works on YWS has at least two reviews. You will probably never see this but....Imma do this anyway.
First Impression: Well this was quite an interesting little short story. It feels a lot longer than it is what with all the separate things that take place within it but I think you've done a pretty darn good job with it and managed to make it flow fairly well. Onto le nitpicks.
Anyway let's get right to it,
I survey myself in the mirror. The mask is comical, but I like to think it’s a little regal as well. It is half crimson, half black, and bordered with burnished curlicues. Small, catlike ears rise from its top corners. Before I join the ball, I rumple my hair one last time, turning it into a proper golden mane.
Well that's a pretty decent place to start things off right there. A decent bit of description and we get a sense of who our protagonist is as well which is always a good thing.
Dozens of couples twirl and bob as the band pumps out its jaunty noise. The men are in angular black tuxedos, the women in loud storms of color. All wear masks—glittering, feathered, outlandish masks. A mob of perfumes and cigarettes add their flavors to the warm air.
Alright, establishing our setting right away, another good thing to see at the start of a story. This is going pretty well so far and that's some great description.
It is a moment before I see her—a pale girl alone in the corner, her arms folded, shifting from foot to high-heeled-foot. The novice belle of the masquerade ball. She wears a strapless gown the color of sapphires, and a mask that only conceals her eyes and half her forehead. It is silver and blue, and easily the least elaborate one in the room.
And more description...okay...starting to slight pause here now...we'll see if we get to actions soon...but the description is in fact good.
“May I have this dance?” I recite when I reach her. She starts, and looks up. I smile. In the fragments of her face that I can see—quickly blinking eyes, that lovely half-opened mouth—there is much surprise.
Very interesting choice of words...there...I'm curious if the word "recite" was on purpose to make it seem like he/she is doing something they are doing only because they must do.
“Oh.” She looks down, bites her lip, and looks up again.
“Are you alright?” I ask quietly. I hold her a little closer.
“Yes. Yes, I think I am.”
For a few minutes we sway in dreamlike silence. She then takes a breath, as though about to dive into ice water. “It’s you, isn't it?”
I chuckle. “Of course it is.”
Well that was a lovely change of events there...instant tonal change too...so you might want to be just a tad bit careful about that.
What’s left of her apprehension dissolves in a delicious trill of laughter. She flings her arms around my neck. The music becomes sweeter with her. People glance at us, but then look away. Those whose masks reveal their mouths show them to be smiling. Her joy is contagious to everyone, but especially to me.
Aww...now that is a wonderful scene that you're bringing to life here.
In half-formed sentences that leap through time and topics, she tells me about her life. Her boarding school, her sadness, her sister, her dreams about lions. She asks in a conspiratorial whisper if all the people in animal masks remind me of the Talking Beasts. I say that of course they do; it’s like being a character in The Wind in the Willows. She’s startled by this, but then beams and compliments me for being well-read. She tells me she misses the badgers and mice and dwarves, and forces me to narrate everything they've done since we won the crown back from my vile old uncle.
Okay...wait a minute...that one took a bit of a turn...
“I’ll see you soon, I promise.” I kiss her hand. The nose of my mask bumps against her pale knuckles. A few dancers chuckle at the outdated gesture, but how can I care, when it makes her smile so warmly?
Hehe...that gesture is perfect...and I stand by it...
Later in the evening, once the masks are off and drinks are being had, I make another discovery, nearly as delightful as the first: Peter. I hadn’t expected him to be here. We shake hands and pat backs, and tell each other all that we’ve done since we last met—which feels like many millennia ago. Just as Peter begins to talk of his plans for medical school, he grins and waves at someone behind my shoulder.
Okay the pacer felt slightly wonky there....having a couple of major time skips in the one paragraph. I feel like the whole pointing at someone behind the shoulder part can be left for another paragraph rather than getting showed into this one.
As I recognize her face, the blood drains from it. She sways, but steadies herself at once. Her true expression is, again, hidden. “Wonderful to see you,” she says in a cracked, flat voice before she leaves us at a half-run.
Uh oh...the plot thickens...
“No matter.” Peter shakes his head as if to dislodge something from his ears. “I’d better find her. Have a good evening.”
“What happened to him?” I ask before he goes, and before I can stop myself.
“He died. She doesn’t know.”
I think this is a chapter in the Pevensies’ lives that Peter had no intention of sharing with me.
Well that was quite the "Dun...Dun...Dun" moment to end on there....
Aaaaand that's it for this one.
Overall: Overall this was a pretty fun little story to read at least to start off with before it got all dark on us. Still that was a pretty neat and quite unexpected twist and it looks like this is part of a really exciting story. Anyways that's all I have to say.
As always remember to take what you think was helpful and forget the rest.
Stay Safe
Harry
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