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young man came up to greet
them, a very handsome one with black hair and a thin face, and he
beckoned for them to follow him. So they did and, as they trailed
behind him, Aline thought that she had no idea the Ballroom was so
big because it seemed like he kept leading them through room after
room, all of them dimly lit with only a few candles here and there
that illuminated brief snatches of opulent-looking surroundings.
But they kept walking without questioning him, and she found
herself unconsciously moving in time to the sound of a sweet tune
that gradually became clearer and louder with every step they took.
Feeling slightly dazed, she glanced back once and saw that her
friends were swaying along to the music as well. Then she got a bit
of a start when she thought she saw the shadows of glittering trees
behind and all around them, which was just silly, but then she felt
truly surprised when she noticed that there were strangers mingling
with their group. But, as she looked more carefully, she realized
they weren't really strangers. She had seen them around school and
around town, though she had certainly never spoken to them or
invited them to her party. But they were dancing too, and that was
all that really mattered. Except, wait—there was something else,
something she had almost forgotten.
    She reached out and grabbed the sleeve of
their black-haired escort. "I know someone named Trevor who works
here," she told the young man. She thought her voice sounded a bit
odd, like she was hearing herself speak from somewhere a great
distance away. "Can you tell him I'm here? I want to see him."
    He smiled at her, and there was something
incredibly familiar about his smile. It was sharp like a knife.
"Forget about him," he said in probably the smoothest, most
beautiful voice Aline had ever heard. "Just dance." Then she was
suddenly struck by the odd certainty that his face was only a
beautiful mask, which then slipped for a fraction of a second, and
she knew that she had seen him before. However, she just could not
manage to remember exactly where.
    "Where have we met before tonight?" she
wondered as she stared into his eyes. The candlelight made them
look like they gleamed with an amber cast. "I'm sorry, but what's
your name again?"
    He gave a low laugh. "It has always been
Raven, Your Highness," he replied, which just made her more
confused. "Come." He held out a pale, slender hand. "He has been
waiting for you."
    "What? What do you mean—?" But she never got
to finish the question. The man who called himself Raven had taken
hold of her hand and, with a gentle pressure, he pulled her through
a pair of tall doors that opened to reveal a grand ballroom.
    It was the most astonishing place she had
ever seen. The walls, floors, and ceiling were made of what looked
like black stone, but they shone softly with an eerie light. There
were also white candles everywhere with flames that burned a pale
blue. On the farthest end was a low balcony where black-clad
musicians with faces painted to resemble crying dolls played
something slow and sad on their spindly instruments while
elaborately attired men and women danced a languid waltz. On tables
nestled in the cozy nooks of the room were rich-looking dishes on
golden platters and bottles of wine encrusted with jewels that the
dancers simply ignored, but which the kids who had come with her
fell upon and consumed with gusto. Meanwhile, in other dark
corners, there were large cushions thrown carelessly on the floor
where people lounged together and, as she looked curiously at one
couple in particular, the woman laughed when the man made a
graceful gesture with his hand over his dark head, then a sheer
curtain slowly fell in hazy folds around them, blurring them from
sight.
    "I—I had no idea this kind of place was in
the Ballroom," she said, suddenly blushing when she saw the
couple's outlines join together in what was unmistakably a very
intimate kiss.
    Raven only looked amused. He bowed