Chapter One – Honey Coated Eyes



"Do not fret my dear daughter; I'm certain you shall meet a very fine gentleman tonight. There is a great deal of people arriving to join us in celebration. Everything will turn out just fine."

"If you say so, papa."


~~~~


Genvieve was convinced that her father was out of his mind if he thought she was going to find a match in any of these people. Stopping at the top of the grand staircase, the blond young woman gazed downward at the crowds of joyous guests that were flooding into the manor - every face hidden behind a mask. She gripped the banister, lifted her head high and began to descend the marble steps, her free hand daintily holding her dress up slightly so that she wouldn't trip on the troublesome thing.

The entrance hall had been hung with dark blue and yellow satin, the floor carpeted a lovely maroon and all the wooden furniture freshly dusted. Every surface and floor was polished and swept, and the curtains drawn back to let in some light. The kitchen staff had worked tirelessly all day to prepare the food to be laid out at the party and had made sure to buy the finest wine they could find in the vast city.

Voices and music echoed through the room as she finally reached the final step, doing her best to try and not appear as too much of a spectacle, though her efforts were for not. The large crystal chandeliers that hung overhead seemed to only shine their light on her as she first set foot on the marble floor, all eyes instantly upon her. The guests set a feeling of unease in her with their masked faces and fancy dress, some of their garments even appearing quite foreign.

"I was born for this," She whispered to herself in a thick French accent, straightening her posture. "If I cannot handle something like this, how can I possibly expect myself to perform in the theatre?"

Sucking in a deep breath she made her way to the far side of the room, doing her best to neither catch nor encourage the curious and lustful gazes she received from men of all ages. She was quite aware of what their intentions were; at these sorts of parties, it was not uncommon for complete strangers to get quite intimate in the middle of the other party guests.

With a great desire to prevent herself from falling victim to such an encounter, she made sure that any return gaze from her was quite apathetic – perhaps her pursuers would grow disinterested and find another man or woman to fawn over.

She could not find a familiar face in this throng of people; their faces hidden, only revealing their eyes, none of which particularly stood out to her. No one was recognizable, not even her father with his tall stature and shockingly fair locks.

Time seemed to move much too slowly for her as she again and again dodged questioning looks and offers to dance or drink. This masquerade idea her parents had concocted was a nightmare, one that she could not simply awake from and be done with it all. God forbid such balls would continue for another four weeks, three balls per week.

It was pure madness, particularly due to her mother and father's insistence that she find someone suitable for marriage at these…gatherings.

"To find a suitable husband in such an affair is akin to trying to find a gentlemen among pigs," she murmured to herself turning to give the room another once over, hoping to find someone, anyone she could recognize.

Amidst the sea of faceless strangers, Genvieve felt painfully alone and out of place. Neither feelings she was quite comfortable with nor the increasingly unsettling leers the young lady was receiving in practically every direction.

Her nerve finally broke and she quickly turned to make a daring escape back to her room, in which she would lock herself away for the rest of the evening. She did not expect to find herself face to face with a pair of tantalizing honey-coated eyes, framed by black and gold felt. They were eyes of respect and awe rather than ones of lust and thoughtless curiosity.

The young man the dazzling eyes belonged to gave her a small smile, holding a hand out to her in question. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, my lady?"

His smooth voice and English accent were yet another surprise to her, no hint of separate agenda to be found. All he desired was just what he had asked of her. This young man had thrown her for a loop, but Genvieve was not one to be off balanced for long. With a smile that would have been seen as intimidating to most, she reached out and daintily placed her hand in his in acceptance.

"Of course."