Vincent Kane's Rise From Ash

6: God's of Greed

Lord Roth stood on the balcony, watching and waiting as the evening ushered in new faces from far and wide. Men and women who had come to fill their bellies and feast their eyes, because that was the only thing they could do. 

He watched everything- from the stolen glances a certain Missus gave the city's newest widower, to the mouth of one Evelyn Greytower that whispered secrets in the ears of a fellow gossip. 

Not many saw the Duke from the platform he stood which was dark and concealed, but the few who did caught the strong unknown presence of the new noble and paid attention. They tried to guess, they even whispered other possible names, but the mask he wore- a silver metallic veil in form of an eagle, the large beak protruding forward and golden feathers falling loosely over the side top of the frame- hid not just his name but his countenance and true character.

But in a way, Lord Roth thought of himself as the predator tonight. Over the smaller birds that flocked together as they walked into the evening- the Kanes, as most welcome. He caught a glimpse of a certain blue bird, delicate and small, with her hands locked in with what he presumed was an ostrich. He figured the ostrich was Doyle- he thought the animal was best befitting and descriptive of his character. Slow but quick to anger.

The servants wasted no time in filling their glasses as they all eagerly waited for a grand introduction made by the Duke himself, welcoming them and honouring their presence.

The evening could wait.

Lord Roth saw the little blue bird dust her dress as she stood to excuse herself into the bathroom. Before he knew to be the gentleman, he followed her trail into the wide corridors of the mansion, watching as she searched for the right room.

“Lost?” He asked and that was the first time she noticed him since the evening began.

“I think I am,” she responded.

He wished in that moment that the blue feathered mask she wore wasn't so concealing. He wanted to see her green eyes again, and wanted her auburn hair that had been pulled back tightly in a bun to fall loosely. Underneath his grip. 

She didn't know who he was, and as he stood, covered and hidden, she couldn't guess. But there was an undeniable familiarity in that voice- and in the way he hovered slightly above her. 

“Do you mind pointing me to the bathroom?”

“Of course,” he smiled friendly, “just down the hall, it's the last door to the left.”

She nodded a thanks in return and he disappeared before she knew it.

*

A familiar scent grazed his skin as he walked by, and from the corner of his eye, he caught a red blur by the corner of the living room. 

Regina Kane looked stunning as always, adorned with stolen wealth and a false confidence she often scammed others with. She was laughing now, as the Duke watched with disdain, with another guest.

“It's been a minute now, and we still have no idea who this mysterious man is,” Lord Roth listened as Regina laughed at what she assumed was a joke.

“Urgh! I wish we could skip the meet and greet and get to the good part of the evening already,” the other woman said.

“Do you know something that I don't?”

“Well…” the woman looked around first before lowering her voice, as if what she was about to say was of federal level confidentiality. “I heard that the usual olden traditional before the previous Duke and Duchess came along was the heir hosting a ball in search of a wife,” she revealed in a somewhat squeaky tone.

He listened to their idiocy and smiled in silence.

“Oh dear, I'm very sure that's just an old tradition and this has nothing to do with it. Besides, this is the twenty-first century for goodness sake,” Regina countered.

Just then, she saw the man who had been listening in on their conversation as he made his way to her. 

“Ladies,” he greeted both but his attention was on his clueless stepmother. Their cheeks flushed red at the sight of such a man and lowered their eyes.

“Could this be him?” They thought to themselves in unison.

Lord Roth took Regina's hand in his and placed a kiss on it. “Forgive my manners, but I've been watching from a close distance and I couldn't help but ask you for a dance with me,” he said charmingly.

Richard, from the table he had been drowning himself with liquor in, saw this and made an attempt to walk over to his wife in a fit. Yet, before he crossed the room to meet her, she was already in the centre of the ballroom, bowing to the Duke of Quincia as the violin started to play. 

“I hope you're enjoying the evening,” he inquired as he spun her around.

By this time, the lady in the blue bird mask had resurfaced and stood, watching the Duke in what she felt to be jealousy. 

“Well, I think that this might be the highlight of it. I haven't been asked for a dance in such a long time,” Regina admitted, feeling his grip around her waist tighten. She wanted him to lean closer to her but sensed that something wouldn't let him.

“I figured,” he said. “If I had been unfortunate enough to marry you, I'd detest every single moment spent with you myself-”

“What?!” Her eyes widened and nostril flared in contempt. Who was he to insult her?

“Talk less of bearing to dance with you,” he laughed.

She wanted to pull back immediately but his grip was too firm, it started to hurt.

“I'm not done with you just yet,” his voice had grown cold suddenly and Regina felt fear creep in as she swallowed.

Who was this man and more importantly, what did he want?

Given all the people she'd crossed and offended in her lifetime, she couldn't place a specific name even if she tried remembering them all one after the other. The number was too great.

He took her hand in his as he gave her another spin. People had gathered to watch now as the music played to the rhythm of their sinister dance.

“Why look so glum, Regina? You should have prepared a table for me by now.”

With sweats breaking on the sides of her face, Regina searched the room for a truly familiar face, one that she could turn to for a calm escape. No one looked back at her at all. Her husband was nowhere to be found again, and in the midst of the crowd, even her own family was lost in the charms of this stranger.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“I go by a lot of names, but you, dearest stepmother, can call me karma.”

A grin lined his face immediately he saw the look of realization on her face. She looked terrified, like she had seen a ghost and worked out the equation. He released her then, and she returned to a settee in silence. 

He took the stairs to the second floor, so that he stood over them with a perfect view of Regina's disgrace, Richard's drunkenness, Doyle's tantrums and Emma's watchful gaze. He saw them all, and he saw the maze for each of them that led to their own woes- except one.

He asked for a glass of wine from one of the servants and tapped it with a cutlery, calling everyone's attention to a toast. They looked up at the man who'd been the conversation for most of the evening and listened with lustful and hungry ears.

“A swell evening to all of you, and I'm most thankful that you could make it in time for the celebration. Some of you didn't know my mother, while some of you were all too familiar with her kindness and grace,” he said, raising his glass particularly towards Regina. “But all the same, we are as family whether new or old and I welcome you all as the Duke to an age where every seed sown on these grounds find germination. Here's

to all of you.”

They all cheered with gayness, some more eager than others- and Regina watched on with bitterness.