Free A Wish Made Of Glass by Ashlee Willis Page B

him not long ago, but there’s little doubt he is skulking in the shadows somewhere. Auren hates balls, poor lad.”
    “Do you know what mask he is wearing tonight?” I cast another glance to where the man with the crown had been standing. He is gone. I give a small huff of frustration. “Was he masked as a king?” I venture.
    “Who, Auren?” The man gives a bellowing laugh. “Not he! A king! Oh, what a thought. It’s a wonder he’s even wearing a mask. He doesn’t like drawing attention to himself, you see. I saw him not a few minutes since. Hmm, what was he wearing?” He turns to the lady at his side, whose face is masked in black starched lace. “Belle, my dear, what mask was the young lord wearing? A crimson dragon, was it not?”
    “A crimson dragon?” The lady frowns and gives him a sharp rap on the shoulder with her fan. “Nothing like. It was gilded blue, encrusted with diamonds.”
    They begin to bicker and I quickly thank them and duck away through the crowd. It seems I must find Auren myself. I am eager to reassure myself that the young lord and the man in the crowned mask are not the same person, though I cannot say why.
    In the end, it is Blessing who leads me to him. If I had given half a moment’s thought to it, I could have guessed as much, for fully half the men in the room are buzzing about her like hummingbirds around a flower. Why should Auren not be there, too?
    But if she is a flower, she is surely a wilting flower. Her mask cannot hide the look of a trapped animal I see in her eyes. I wonder how the men speaking with her do not see it. I fightthe urge to push through them and whisk her away to a place where we can both gossip and laugh over the people in this fanciful, foolish place.
    There is a rustling sound to my left, and I twist around in time to see a man making his way through the crowd of others. His steps are slow, like a man who has stumbled into a dream. His mask is a simple white and covers one side of his face. The other side shows skin that is soft and youthful. His eyes and hair are brown as a doe’s. He is hardly more than a boy, yet when the others fall silent and make way for him, I realize I have found the young lord at last.
    Auren offers Blessing a polite bow and extends his arm for her to take. Without a word, he leads her from her group of admirers and across the room. I follow in their wake at a distance, using the bright banner of Blessing’s golden hair to guide me through the throng.
    They disappear behind the thick curtains of a window alcove and I want to stomp with annoyance, for I had hoped to spy a while longer. Instead, I tuck myself as close to the wall as I can get and put my ear against the curtain. It is shameless, I suppose, but I am beyond caring.
    “Thank you.” Blessing’s voice is a wisp of sound. She is breathless with some emotion. It sounds half fear and half elation.
    “It’s no trouble.” There is a smile in Auren’s voice. “I will admit, I was perhaps being more selfish than gallant by rescuing you. I’ve watched you the night through and knew I couldn’t let you leave until I met you.”
    I can almost feel the heat of Blessing’s blushing cheeks from my side of the curtain, so certain am I of her reaction. This is the moment another girl might simper or play coy. Yet, despite her discomfort, I hear Blessing say, “I have no need for such praise. This much and more has been spoken to me too many times to count tonight. I am weary of it.” There is a note of impatience in her voice. I cannot help but admire her for it.
    “I’m glad to hear it,” Auren says cheerfully. “I was hoping you were not that kind of girl. I had to be sure, of course.”
    I press closer into the curtain, my interest piqued.
    Blessing gives one of her tinkling laughs. “Well that makes things much easier, though I wouldn’t have you think I’m ungrateful that you stepped in when you did. I’m not used to so many people as this. My sister and I