The masks I brought concealed every part of our faces, except for our mouths, which were now painted with rouge.
Matilda's dress was a golden satin that hugged the curves of her breasts before flowing down to her feet. She looked like a princess out of a fairytale.
"It's my first time wearing a dress," she had said. Sadness wrapped around me at the thought—to think Thomas had never seen her in anything but a maiden's uniform.
"With these masks on, no one has to know who we are. But our true lovers will."
"It is not a masked ball," she protested. "Won't we be asked to remove them?"
I shrugged. "Why do we have to follow the rules?"
And that was how we reached the entrance of the ballroom.
"I talked with Martha and Gwen." I caught her staring at a maid serving wine. "They will take care of the guests. Besides, no one ever notices a missing maid."
"Well, Thomas will! The King will!" She shrieked in protest as I took her hand and pulled her toward the stairs. "Oh my God!"
