Snippet #7687

A girl pressed herself against the faded gray of a wall. Nothing could be discerned of her figure, not through the long, plain skirt that nearly swept the ground, nor through the folds of the black hooded mantle that obscured her face. Tiny gold-colored threads were woven through it in an intricate Perinthian pattern, the likes of which could be seen on heads here and there as they retreated from the market. One slender, milk-white hand picked through a cheap cloth sack. A smattering of items rested inside: two apples, a ball of twine, a spool of thread, and a roll of cloth bandage. The twine, thread, and bandage were what she had really been after, but the apples had been too lovely to resist. They were cheap enough, and she needed a bit of comfort now, something to celebrate. There'd be one for herself and one for her companion. She glanced around, but she took care not to dislodge the hood. Knowing that she could not be lost to her partner, who was surely somewhere nearby, the girl continued on her way. It would be better not to tarry.

A cool breeze cut through the roadway and the girl's hands flew upward, catching hold of her hood. The wind came from the other side of town, and with it slithered more dregs of smoke to cloud the gas lamps' shining. The girl hurried on. Soon, though, her gaze fell on a veritable crowd. She came to a halt, blue eyes widening. In this part of town, that meant danger. The odds that she would be recognized were higher than she liked. From a little distance away, she watched. Her feet were frozen to the walk. She dared go no closer.

It dawned on her that they must be going somewhere. Following their path with her eyes, she recognized their destination as the Faux residence. The masquerade, she realized, was tonight. Her parents had made mention of it the week before. They had also mentioned that business matters would keep them from attending. A sigh escaped her lungs. She was still at risk, but at least it was something. Sidling up to a nearby tree, she tilted her head downward and rearranged the contents of her bag, desperate to look legitimately busy until the flow of people ceased.