At eight o''clock in the evening, Rose Manor was aze with light. Roses in pink, white, red, yellow, purple, and blue swayed gracefully beneath the glow, their fragrance drifting on the summer air.


    Every so often, a car would pull up at the front of the estate. Elegant guests, dressed to the nines, stepped out each drawn by Jade''s legendary reputation. Every face was hidden behind a mask, some half, some full, as they strolled along petal-strewn paths into the lush rose garden. The ball had yet to begin, but already the guests wandered among the blooms, admiring the flowers in mysterious anonymity.


    Along one side of the garden, beneath an arched trellis, stood a long banquet tableden with an array of colorful delicacies and fine wines. It was a masquerade, after all—everyone in themed attire, every identity concealed, each introduction a guessing game. The rules were simple: let your instincts guide you, dance with those who intrigue you, and savor the thrill of not knowing who might be behind the mask.


    Upstairs, M was still in her bedroom, changing into her evening gown. The invitation hade on short notice, but her great-aunt''s house was never short on dresses for any asion. The one M had been sent tonight was nothing like her usual style.


    The woman in the mirror looked almost like a stranger. She wore a high-necked gown of sheer ck silk, cinched at the waist with a golden ribbon. A sapphire- studded gold ne coiled around her throat, the dark blue pendant edged in gold filigree with a teardrop pearl dangling from its tip. Matching gold earrings, each set with a pearl, brushed her neck. Her dark hair was swept up in an elegant chignon, lips painted a bold red. The look was striking—undeniably beautiful, but with a cold,manding edge that felt both unfamiliar and oddly empowering.


    She had just finished adjusting to the ensemble when Miranda''s voice rang out from the other side of the door.


    "M, are you ready?"


    "Coming," M called back. She grabbed a brilliant gold mask draped with a long ck veil from the vanity and fastened it to her face, leaving only her bright, fox- like eyes visible. The veil fell over her pinned-up hair, making her reflection look even less like herself.


    Stepping out of the dressing room, she found Miranda waiting in a different but equally dramatic ck gown. Miranda circled her, eyes wide with approval. "ck suits you, M. And with this getup, no one will recognize you."


    M sighed. "So, what''s Jade''s n, exactly? Is she ever going to let me in on the secret?"


    Miranda just grinned. "You''ll see soon enough. Jade picked out a few eligible bachelors for you tonight I scoped them out ahead of time, and they''re all quite attractive. They know what to look for, so they''lle find you and ask you to dance. You can see if any of them catch your fancy."


    "Wonderful. So it''s a blind date, with extra steps." M groaned, reaching for her phone. "Where''s Forrest?"


    “He''s probably already downstairs. And seriously, you''re not bringing your phone to a masquerade." Miranda snatched it out of M''s hand and tossed it on the bed, then fastened a finely detailed mask over her own face and took M''s hand. "Let''s go. The party''s about to start."


    Hand in hand, they hurried down the stairs and followed the cobblestone path toward the back garden. Even before they reached the festivities, the sound ofughter and music carried through the air.


    The garden was filled with people-everyone in their finest, every face masked. Somewhere along the way, M lost Miranda''s hand in the press of the crowd; before she realized, she was alone, swept up in a sea of strangers.


    Suddenly, the music swelled,manding everyone''s attention. The chatter faded. After a few seconds hush, the crowd shifted in unisonmoving toward the grand ballroom at the end of the rose field. Milà heard people murmuring, "It''s starting."


    She followed along, pausing as she passed a bush of pale pink roses. On a whim,


    she plucked a bloom and tucked it behind the ear of her golden mask, then continued on toward the ballroom.


    At the far end of the garden, the ballroom waited-vast and bright, its every corner adorned with roses. A live band yed behind the dance floor, and even with so many guests, the space felt airy and open.


    No host was needed; couples naturally paired off, spinning across the floor as petals swirled and drifted through the air. M watched the dazzling scene, scanning the crowd for Miranda-or for Forrest.


    Just then, a man about Forrest''s height approached her. He wore a sleek ck suit and a heart-shaped ck mask, his posture confident as he extended a hand in silent invitation.


    But when M looked into his eyes, disappointment flickered behind her mask. Not Forrest.


    He must be one of those hopefuls her great aunt had arranged. M had never cared much for dancing and tonight, with the weight of the masquerade, the prospect seemed even less appealing. She shook her head, declining the invitation without a word.


    The man tried once more, then, rebuffed, retreated into the crowd.


    M dropped her gaze, fingers idly brushing the rose at her mask''s ear. How was


    she supposed to find anyone in this sea of strangers?


    Would Forrest even recognize her?


    As she pondered, a sudden chill brushed past her. Someone was striding quickly


    in her direction. She turned-and startled.


    Standing before her was a man


    was


    draped head to toe in a ck cloak. His face was hidden behind a stark white mask, the hollow eye sockets dark as night, and beneath one eye was painted a single drop of blood-red "teardrop." The effect was eerie, almost macabre.


    He reached out a gloved hand.


    M instinctively stepped back.


    He seemed momentarily surprised by her reaction, but then, without a word,


    extended his hand again, waiting—an unspoken invitation to dance.