Dancing into the Night- Part Ten

Dancing into the Night: Part Ten  

A blushing young woman was cocooned in silver wings tipped in the deepest of blacks . . . or so it would have appeared to anyone at first glance. But in truth it was just a woman clothed in an evening dress.

It had been two hours since Lynara had returned from her shopping excursion, and now she was finally ready. After bathing and getting her newly acquired shift on, the brown maid had let Lexya in to help her prepare, and ever since the two had been working to perfect the ensemble. In truth, Lynara had never been one to primp- for any reason- and had been grateful for the younger woman's help in the matter. Though she had admittedly argued with her friend several times over little details; such as the face paint that Lexya had tried to smear on her face and the extra time she had wanted to take on brushing out Lynara's unruly curls. But besides those few disagreements, the dark eyed woman had fallen silent and let her makeshift sister take control. And it was only now as Lexya announced that she was done that Lynara once more came back into the moment.

"Come over here and see how beautiful you look, Lynnie," Lexya whispered happily, as she took the other girl's hands into her own and led her over to the mirror in the corner of the guest room.

"Lexya, I'm sure I look nice, but I'm no beauty-" she stopped midsentence as her dark chocolate eyes fell on a living butterfly with beautiful tipped wings (flowered beads of white imbedded in her short curly hair), her expression tensing in surprising as she looked upon a woman she had never seen before.

To her side Lexya stood, smiling from ear to ear, as her older sister stared slack jawed into the mirror. Though the freckled, red-head was only seventeen years old, she could appreciate the womanly glow of the other maid, as well as the beauty that the dress enhanced in her friend. The dress itself was beautiful, but rather simple as far as evening gowns went. But Lynara hadn't been willing to spend all of the Count's coins, so she had picked this garment. And despite Lexya having originally complained about her getting a 'cheap dress', the girl knew, as she watched the stunned woman in the mirror, that there was no other option that would have suited her sister better.

Now as Lynara stood in astonished silence, Lexya slowly placed a hand to her bared shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. The brown maid lifted her hand to place it atop the other woman's before bright tears rose in her brown eyes, though they didn't fall as she gazed upon herself.

"That can't be . . . Is that really me?"

Lexya laughed softly as she wrapped her arms around Lynara's middle and grinned. "Of course it is. Who else has a shade of skin that dark and mysterious around here?"

"Oh fie-"

"No, Sisi. I mean it!" Lexya let her eyes travel to the beautiful ball gown before they returned to meet her friend's eyes in the reflection of the glass. "If you had lighter skin you wouldn't have a prayer of looking good in that. I for one, am far too pasty white to have dared such a gorgeous thing."

"That is not true, Lexya. You look beautiful no matter what you might wear."

"Flatterer."

For a second the two were quiet before the dark maid spoke again.

"I do not feel myself," Lynara said in awe as she reached down with shaking hands to splay across the soft fabric of her dress. "This is not me. . . It cannot be."

"Not normally Sisi, no," Lexya agreed. "But tonight it is you. . . You are a Lady, no matter what anyone might say."

For a long moment the brown barmaid was still, her posture uneasy, before she turned away from the mirror and wrapped her arms around the red-haired girl. For a second they held onto each other: one for joy in her handy work and the friendship she shared, and the other to pool her lost courage, before the taller and darker of the two addressed the other.

"Thank you, Lexya . . . Your work tonight will do me credit. And I shall think of you in this."

"No, you bloody well won't," Lexya snorted, laughing as she pulled away from the hug and placed a kiss to her surrogate sister's plump cheek. "You'll think of your gentleman and how he'll never be the same after seeing you tonight."

Lynara's face became a brownish pink before she playfully smacked the other girl's arm. "You are terrible, Lexya."

"And you are a Goddess~!" She sang in reply as she reached for Lynara's black wrap and draped it over her as a finishing touch.

"Refrain from blaspheming, sister."

"Oh fine. But you deserve this, Lynnie. You never have fun or do things for yourself; it's about time you had something good happen. So no more being humble and shy this eve, alright? You'll be the Belle of the Ball, and your handsome Count will be lucky to have you on his arm amongst that group of nobles."

Lynara doubted that her presence at the Masque would truly make such an outstanding impact on those attending, but she could not deny the freckled barmaid's enthusiasm and sweet words of encouragement. So instead of fighting her, the brown woman merely hugged her again and kissed her cheek in return.

"What did I ever do to deserve such a devoted sister?"

"You were the one who took me under wing, Lynara- begged the TM to hire me. Gave me a good home away from the docks. Whatever wonderful thing comes, we share it. We owe each other." Lexya stopped for a brief moment before she gestured to the door of the Guest Chamber excitedly. "And now, it's time for you to go beautiful Lady. . . Your Count told the Tavern Master that a coach would arrive for you around this time, and you can't be late for your magical evening."

As the two maids walked side by side to the door, Lynara gave the other a wistful smile. "I wish you were coming with me."

"As do I. But I'll make due with hearing about everything in detail when you come back swoonin'."

Lynara laughed nervously, before they reached the staircase of the Tavern- where Lexya stopped to say her goodbyes.

"Give them hell, Sisi."

"Love you too, Lexya."

And with that the brown barmaid forced herself to continue down the steps and walk carefully to the door, opening it gingerly before taking one last look around the Tavern and entering into the chilled night.

As the door of the Tavern closed soundlessly behind Lynara, her breath caught, as she was surprised by the drastic change of the warmth of the establishment to the cold of the Hallow's breeze. While the maid currently had her new wrap slung securely over her rarely exposed shoulders, the thin material did little to keep out the cold. And with the soft drizzle that was now gliding from the overcast heavens, it was apparent that her dress was not very practical either. The young woman sighed heavily as she immediately began to chide herself for wasting time and the Count's proffered coins on such frivolous apparel, when her attention was caught by a foreign shadow moving into her peripheral vision. Lynara jumped at the sight of the shadow, as if it were a living creature, before her senses returned to her and she realized that the form belonged to another person who stood to her left. With wary eyes the girl turned her adorned head to look at the one who had come so near. And as she focused on them, Lynara was unable to contain her disconcertion.

Standing not two feet away was a lad of twelve or so years, dressed in a smart tunic and feather cap. In one hand he held a large piece of fabric- that Lynara recognized as something servants held over their Master's when it rained, to protect them from the elements- while his other hand that was free, gestured back the way he had come.

"Lady Lynara?" He questioned curiously.

For a second, Lynara was unfit to answer him, due to the unexpected fact that this strange boy had called her by name. But finally, she was able to recover her composure and nod at the lad.

At her affirmation the male youth beamed before he urged her, "This way, Ma'am. Your carriage is waiting."

This news wasn't what she had been expecting, but at the boy's innocent patience with her, the maid did as she was bid and followed him. For several seconds they walked towards the side of the building, with the boy holding the great heavy cloth over the woman's head to keep her dry. Before they rounded the corner of the Tavern structure and Lynara got her first look at the coach she was meant to travel in.

It was pure white and made of the grandest wood and steal, with two horses of the same shade as the transport, bridled with the best equipment that money could buy. It was a dream carriage, straight from a fairytale, and even in the dim light of the chilly evening it was clear that the coach was fit for royalty. . . This made the dark skinned maid anxious as she drew closer to it.

It seemed the Count had spared no expense in his festive preparations. The show of generosity was both incredible as well as utterly daunting, and Lynara would have turned to run back to the safety of the Tavern without delay . . . if it wasn't for the darker part of her mind taking control of her functions.

She couldn't run. Not now when Vladislaus had promised to give her answers, on this very night. There was nothing that she longed for more than the truth he could present. . . Since that fateful night when she had first spoken with the Count, she had sensed something peculiar about him. . . An uncanny personal demon or secret that was just beyond the surface and her view. . . And if she was but brave enough to take a chance Dracula would reveal all to her. It was an opportunity that she might never get again, and she had to know; to let her mind be put to rest in this dark matter of doubt. So, without further hesitation, Lynara approached the carriage and let the boy help her in. Though the young woman was somewhat surprised when the lad- after making sure she was happily settled- made no move to close the door. But he quickly made his reasons for this known.

With nimble hands the male youth reached towards the far seat of the transport (opposite of the woman) to grab two items there: a tinder and flint and what appeared to be a candle. Briefly the boy fiddled with the tinder and flint, striking a spark on the wick of the light, before a bobbing glow erupted inside of the coach. Once he was pleased that the candle would not go out, the twelve year old once more addressed the barmaid.

"I'm sorry for any inconvenience, Ma'am. But my orders were very strict and I must follow them."

"That's alright," Lynara assured him with a kind nod of acceptance. "Say what you must, sir. I'm in no hurry, as long as you aren't."

As she called him 'sir' the boy visibly brightened, before unconsciously puffing out his chest importantly and continuing.

"The Count has left you a message, my lady. He asked that you read it before we depart for his Summer Palace."

As he said this, the boy pointed to the opposite seat again, where Lynara now realized there were housed two more items. On the dark coverlet of the seat was a single letter and beside it rested the blackest flower that the maid had ever set eyes upon. The lad, witnessing her observation of the articles in question, then carefully placed the candle on the floor of the carriage and backed out of the space.

"I await your instructions after reading my Master's letter, Ma'am. Please take all the time you require."

Then without another word, the male youth closed the carriage door, leaving the barmaid alone to her own devices.

For a long time Lynara merely stared at the correspondence, thinking of what information it might contain, before she took the clean paper in her calloused right hand. Then slowly she unfolded the parchment and began to read the elegant hand before her.

She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies.

And all that's best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes

Thus mellow'd to that tender light; which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less- had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,or softly lightens o'er her face;where thoughts serenely sweet express

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow: so soft, so calm, yet eloquent

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,but tell of days in goodness spent

A mind at peace with all below

A heart whose love is innocent.

Unknowingly tears had formed in Lynara's woodland eyes as she read the beautiful verse written in the Count's hand. In her younger days while learning to read, she had read many poems and sonnets under the instruction of the Monks. But as she gazed upon the personal message within the beautifully phrased words, she felt her heart falter and then rise in her chest, as she once more moved her eyes to the page, seeing more written underneath what she had read.

My dear Lynara,

I trust that this letter finds you safe and securely tucked away. My apologies for the delay, but I wished to leave the final decision of the evening in your hands, my darling.

Since our first meeting you have been cautious of your attentions; reserved in what you choose to give. . . And now I must ask if you are willing to push past your boundaries altogether. As you may recall, I made a vow to share all of my secrets with you, my dear, and I am bound by my word. But you must ask yourself if it is truly something you desire. What you learn will transform the friendly affection that we have created; whether it will be for the better or the worse I am still uncertain. But this change is inevitable should we continue on our current path.

I will not blame you should you decide to stay at your Tavern, Lynara. What I ask will take great deal of trust. Such a thing cannot be bought nor falsified, so I will not ask for it lightly. It must be from your heart, my darling, and I will not manipulate your decision. Whatever you choose, I shall understand and respect you for it.

 All yours,

 Vladislaus

It seemed like the world had frozen as the brown maid had read the sincere message. And as her misty eyes lifted to look at the black flower she felt the first tears finally fall down her dark cheeks.

For all of her life, the young woman had been alone; doubting herself and the possibility that happiness might ever find her. But now as she reached out for the obsidian blossom, she knew that she was already changed. From the moment, Dracula had first called her by name and smiled at her, she had hoped for him to be different. And he had been. He was. He had broken through a heart made of stone and brought life back into an existence that had stopped having meaning. Since the day she had taken murdered her uncle, the woman's life had been cursed. . . But now, as she reread Vladislaus' declaration, she found that she was unafraid. For the first time in years, Lynara was certain of what to do, and her misgivings began to melt away.

What do I feel for the Count, Lynara wondered. What drives me so mindlessly and yet makes me think so clearly?

Tenderly, the woman took the flower into her hands, cupping it reverently, before she reached up and placed it amid the little white beaded flowers that already donned her head. With steady fingers the girl weaved the steam deep into her tight curls, before she released it. Though she now couldn't see it, the girl knew that her ensemble was truly complete.

Then, the dark barmaid of the Tavern knocked her knuckles against the carriage door, which was immediately opened by the boy. He gazed at her for a moment before he broke the silence with a question.

"What is your command, my lady?"

Lynara smiled as she blew out the candle and cradled the letter in her palm, her eyes crinkling around the edges as she dipped her head at him.

"We mustn't waste any more time . . . Take me to the Summer Palace."