A date for the carnival

[Ezvin Marveet]

Ezvin waited near the edge of the riverwalk where the lights from the carnival bled into the dark water, turning it into a ribbon of gold and color. The air carried the smells burnt sugar, liquor, oil from frying dough, and the faint odor of the river itself. Somewhere behind him, a guitar played a tune that was just a little too slow, just a little too warped to be comforting. He felt good.

Not the sharp, restless kind of good that came from chasing something new, but the smooth, settled confidence of a man exactly where he wanted to be. His coat was warm, scarf loose, hair behaving for once. He checked his reflection briefly in the dark glass of a ticket booth and allowed himself a small, approving nod. Nights like this suited him.

The carnival sprawled away from the embankment like a fever dream. Strings of lights zigzagged overhead. The tents leaned into one another as if sharing secrets. A tarot reader smoked beneath a velvet awning, cards laid out like an accusation.

Further down, a sign promised TRUE GHOSTS, REAL VOICES, and Ezvin made a mental note to check about that later. Across the way, a row of game stalls glowed with impossible optimism, stuffed animals hanging in neat rows like colorful trophies waiting to be claimed.

He slipped his wallet from his pocket, checked the time, and smiled.

He leaned back against the railing and watched people pass: lovers wrapped together, strangers brushing hands, performers in half-costumes laughing too loudly. Ezvin’s thoughts flicked, briefly, to how Cadence had looked earlier that day, all curious and bright, just on the edge of something new. He liked that edge. He liked being there when people stepped over it. He also liked that she’d said yes so easily.

[Cadence]

Cadence exited the cab and paid the driver with a generous tip. She made sure her various outer layers were all properly put together. She wore layers - several of them to keep warm. She adjusted the purple scarf underneath the purple coat she wore. She was a fan of purple. On her hands she wore black leather gloves, lined on the inside with faux fur. As a pianist, she needed to protect her hands. And hat covered her ears. She wore make up, but it was light, accenting features instead of covering. She never wore much. Never felt she had to.

Ezvin was here already and she wasn’t surprised by that even if she was a little early. Lore would likely be right on time. She seemed the punctual type. Cadence approached him with a warm smile. Her hands were in her coat pockets, and she gently pushed her shoulder into his in greeting. ”Hey you!” A hand sneaked out then an found his, giving a squeeze as she s she smiled at him before surveying the area.

It was a world of color, sounds, and smells. Ezvin had called the carnival surreal. Surrealist movements in art were a thing. There was even music that was surreal. She didn’t know how that would fit into a carnival, but she was feeling open minded about it all. She was one for the few vocalists at university that appreciated the surreal music scene, even it wasn’t something she always enjoyed. Her ears locked onto the guitar - too slow and too disjointed. In a strange way, that made it perfect.

It was the light’s reflection on the water that drew her gaze though. ”Pretty,” she said, her gaze lingering on the water and her eyes reflecting the color. She turned to Ezvin. ”You know, it wasn’t so long ago I would have said no to this. It’s new and unknown - maybe even a bit scary. Maybe it still is a little bit, but I don’t know. I spent so much time hiding that now I just want to try new things.” she laughed a little at herself. ”Might be a little scary, but still looking forward to it. And I got you here to bother as well. All in all, I’m optimistic it will be fun.”

Cadence gave him a wink and a contented sigh. The moment felt intimate, but not overwhelming. Lore would be here soon and even though Cadence was glad she was coming, she was also glad for this moment. She wanted it to last a little longer.

[Lore]

MARVEET. The relief of finally connecting the dots was palpable. It wasn’t any particular resemblance to Scion which finally conjured the memory, just a sudden recollection of the research she had done prior to the masquerade – and the annoying buzz of music producer, music producer humming through her mind like an electric current. Scion was elevated the same night as Jessika, so of course she’d spent time investigating his family tree. Which was quite effusive as it happened. Including an Ezvin. Who was a music producer.

And there is was: the connection which had been nagging at her since Artskaf.

She was back at the Radiance by then, wrapped up in a fluffy hotel robe, fresh from the shower (where she did all her best thinking), and half way through a sudoku puzzle book she’d picked up from the airport. The satisfaction was regrettably short-lived. Loose end time was not Lore’s favourite thing, and the sooner she had something concrete in Moscow to get her teeth into the better. She tried to think of it as a sort of extended vacation in the meantime, but honestly she was bored.

There were still several hours before her evening plans with the aforementioned Marveet and Cadence, though she’d scheduled a solitary dinner in the hotel restaurant before that. Some risks were worth taking, but not the one presented by “erotic candyfloss.” The idea still wrinkled her nose.

She was checking her calendar and cross-referencing an immaculate list of memos when she realised something that had actually escaped her attention. When Damien had failed to attend his own coronation, Lore had called him. Granted, Damien had said he wasn’t going, but no small part of her had still expected him to show like the insouciant lazy lion he was. Politically speaking his absence seemed a little pointed, especially since the Ascendancy himself had been there, but he’d assured her in a blase way that he was sending a delegate to take care of his concerns in DI. Lore wasn’t part of his administration and he didn’t offer detail. Sometimes he still spoke to her like the little shadow who’d followed him around as a child. Indulgent, a little annoyed, far too charming for his own good. Entirely magnetic.

It always annoyed her when she realised it. How she was still hanging on his every word even after all these years. So she’d scribbled herself a note and cut the call short with the excuse that Jessika had needed her.

Annoyed with herself now, Lore counted the days since the ball, and realised the delegate was already here. Probably for weeks! It wasn’t her job to welcome them, but it was courtesy to at least make an introduction. With five minutes work she had a name she recognised. Lore was aware in a peripheral sense that Matías was the offspring of a large criminal (former) enterprise, but since Damien himself had spent a considerable amount of time in San Quentin it wasn’t a metric she generally used for judging character. Matías had been the one to steer her gently away from Lord Gregory’s attentions, and soon after Lore had found herself carted off to Texas and into Jessika’s orbit, where she’d remained since. Possibly Matías would not recall her name. Lore was quite used to being unremembered. But a little bit of embarrassment rarely stopped her.

Within fifteen minutes she had called, invited him to dinner, adjusted her reservation with the restaurant, and sent Cadence a message to warn her she would possibly be bringing someone later.

Which still left…

… three hours and twenty-six minutes before she needed to be anywhere.

It was going to be a long afternoon.