Hand of Fate - Part 1

Mark Hialdan straightened his bowtie in the mirror and sighed. "I hate dance parties.."

But even more than dance parties, he hated dance parties at House Hialdan. There would come a lot of people he didn't know or care to know.. among them women, whose eyes got magically misty around the Hialdans' only heir. The women would ask him to dance, the men would make merry and drink themselves under the table and he would as usual have to clean up. Father couldn't be counted upon.

Father was so tired and withdrawn lately. Mark sighed again. He didn't like to be worried about Father. Nanny was getting worse, too..

He studied himself in the mirror. All ready to conquer the ballroom, you handsome fellow. The girls will make a carpet under your feet. Right.. He knew he could never face up to people like Gallan and that smooth-talker Linus. He didn't even try. Girls were a futile pursuit. In the silence of his lit corner of the library, he could almost believe that.

"Mark? Are you ready, son?"

Mark smiled. Anxious man.

"I'll be right out, Father!" He crooked his bowtie with a final push and hastened to open the doors.

Lord Shrain Hialdan took his arm. "Let's not keep the guests waiting, Mark."

The first notes of the dance suite drifted up to them as they walked side by side down the old staircase.

"My, how you've grown. It seems just yesterday that I wore that costume at your first birthday."

"Oh, Father.." Mark laughed. If it hadn't been for the dance he could have named it a good day. He had ridden earlier, a long, refreshing stroll through the woods. He didn't like closed spaces, most of all spaces crowded with sweaty dancers.

They passed the first corner and Mark took in the sight of the ballroom. It was shining. He let out a sigh of admiration. There were candles everywhere, all safely guarded under metal caps, all burning for the glory of the Hialdans. Father never spared any expense. When it came to dance parties, House Hialdan was renowned in all of Rilngard. The dances and food were open to nobles and commoners alike. As Father once had said, "You'll never find a friend more loyal than one who has danced under your roof."

Very rarely did Mark see Father in a mood to say things like that anymore. He always had that look of worry on his face. That look that said, "I see death."

But now, as they started greeting their way through the crowd, his father's face was brightened by the candles and all seemed well. Perhaps this dance wouldn't prove so bad after all. Perhaps..

A girl had just entered the hall. Her eyes reflected the wonder of the party. For a brief second, as she gazed over the crowd, their sights met.

Mark's heart skipped a beat.

As his father approached to greet the girl, Mark blinked. There was a man behind the girl, likely a companion. A dark, black-haired youth, who kept very close to her. Mark frowned and the boy held his frown with the coldest look he had ever seen. Mark shivered, but before he had time to blink again he was swept away by vivacious Lady Abelaina.

continue to part 2 >>

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