The Upper City of the Holy See of Arcadia, the Pandora Theatre…

With the Ecclesiarch, Iris de Escaflora, seated opposite her at a rather fancily decorated table set at the front row before the stage, the elven Lich, Elena de L’Enfer, sat uneasily upon her cushioned chair. The ornate clock upon the wall by the stage showed, without a shadow of a doubt, that there was still little less than half an hour to go before the opera began.

“Is there anything else you need, Ecclesiarch?” Elena asked, smiling at her friend who in turn returned her crimson-eyed gaze with the passiveness of her golden eyes. “Anything at all?”

“Perhaps another glass of champagne,” Iris said in reply, the evenness of her words like that of a winter’s sonata as she made a big show of glancing cursorily at the assortment of bite-sized delicacies and refreshments set before her. “Thank you, though.”

“Right, uh…”

Blushing momentarily in shades of necromantic green as she studied the number of items she had brought to the table, Elena’s eyes took refuge in the sight of the beauty of the sleeveless evening gown of white silk and threaded jewels that shimmered like woven moonlight upon the slender and tall frame of her silver-haired friend. Her own gown, her most favourite one, was also something similar in design, sleeveless and woven from red silk, trimmed with gold and diamonds. It did little to ease her discomfort despite its softness upon her cold skin as she felt more acutely than ever before, the light traces of makeup upon her face as she looked at the clock once more.

“Tch…”

Much to her chagrin, little less than a minute had barely passed upon the ornate clock. And so, she took a moment to look around her, at the other guests gathered at the other tables in their ravishing dresses and immaculate suits befitting of the Upper City. Especially the ones nearby, for she could spot the discipline instilled in their eyes even as they mingled with the other guests present who seemed none the wiser. It was, after all, for all that she knew, the norm for the Lightsworn that served as the honour guard to her dear friend. All of whom had, with little more than a kind word from their mistress, kept their distance.

“I can’t believe it,” Elena said, her crimson gaze going back to the clock by the stage, where time itself seemed to grind to a halt upon its bejewelled hands. “I’m sure she’s not coming, and…”

“The show has yet to start, Lady de L’Enfer. We still have about twenty minutes," Iris remarked almost nonchalantly. "Lady de la Lune, I am sure will be here shortly.”

“Well, I…”

Cutting herself short, Elena glanced once more at the clock. Now, five minutes had gone by. And it was with this that she found herself standing up, her crimson eyes looking towards the exit where the ornate doors of the theatre were closed shut. Most of the patrons, after all, were already gathered within the various viewing halls and galleries for the opera that was soon to be performed. So were the staff that served them, it seemed.

“I can’t wait all evening. I’m leaving, right now.”

And with that, she strode towards the exit as quickly as she could, brushing past guests and theatre staff alike as her feet ached within the jewelled confines of her high-heeled shoes with every step of the way. She made it as far as the entrance of the building, where just before she could step out into the cold night, she felt a warm hand clasped upon her shoulder with what felt like the united strength of a thousand ogres.

“And where do you think you are going?” Iris asked as Elena turned around to look at her, a look of astonishment upon her face as she considered the sheer and utterly inhuman speed her friend possessed despite her own high heels. “Lady de la Lune will arrive soon, I am certain.”

“Maybe! But I… I have to get out of here!” Elena said, her voice little more than a desperate whisper as she looked into the passiveness of her friend’s golden-eyed gaze. “By Elicia! This is a terrible, terrible mistake! I really shouldn’t have…”

Stopping mid-sentence, she chose instead to wrench herself free from Iris’s grasp, only to have her friend’s grip hold firm as they struggled against each other.

“I have to… let go of me, damnit!”

“Stop this right now,” Iris commanded, taking a moment to gesture to her Lightsworn bodyguards to stand down while she herself remained in Elena’s way. “You are acting like a child. If you leave, she will have to watch this show all alone.”

“She can watch it with you!” Elena shot back as she continued struggling against her friend’s grip. “I’m so damn nervous right now, and I…”

“It was your idea, Lady de L’Enfer.”

“Yes, but…”

“You are overthinking this, my friend. Far too much, I fear.”

At that, Elena frowned. For indeed, now that she thought about all that had been done, a part of her suspected that Iris was right. Watching the same opera thrice before this evening’s performance was anything but proper, she was sure. Even if a very special someone was joining her tonight for this one. A very special someone indeed, one that she had left all alone at home if only to go ahead and make preparations for the night ahead. Where afterwards, she had arranged for a meal at a restaurant whose name confused her just as much as the exoticness of the cuisine did. But at least they served coffee.

Even so, there was but one truth - for all of it to work out the way she wanted it, everything had to be perfect. More than perfect, somehow. And to this, as though sensing her soul’s cry, Iris simply shook her head as she continued holding her friend in place.

“Have you not considered the possibility that she might be just as nervous as you are?”

“What?”

“You heard me, Lady de L’Enfer. It is unlikely you are alone in this. And speaking of which…”

As her friend fell silent, as the tightness of her grip lessened upon her shoulder, Elena turned around. Towards Claire de Lune, who could be seen dressed in a scarlet gown and long-sleeved gloves of black silk that all fit most elegantly around her curvaceous figure. Where in the short distance between them upon the red carpet, she strode forth gracefully in black stockings and jewelled dress shoes, a big smile upon her lips as she caught sight of her mistress and the Ecclesiarch.

“She is here,” Iris whispered to Elena. “I bid that you would conduct yourself properly, as any Vizier would. Just follow your heart, even if you do not have one.”

And with that, she left them, her Lightsworn bodyguards leading her back to her table.

“Oh, my…” Elena said out loud to no one in particular, her voice little more than a whisper. “I…”

She stopped herself mid-sentence as she willed forth all of her unholy strength to keep her jaw from dropping as Claire got closer and closer. For indeed, in the glitzy lights of the Pandora Theatre’s exterior, as she watched her servant walk upon its red carpet, it was almost like a scene reborn that she loved with all her heart. In colours so vivid with life, beauty and passion.

And now, it was happening all over again. Almost like a dream, in a way. But much, much better. So much better.

“Sorry I’m late!” Claire exclaimed, smiling sheepishly as she stopped before her mistress. “Elena, are you… alright?”

At the sound of those words, Elena’s head sprang up, such that her gaze of her crimson eyes shot up from its affixation upon the carpet beneath them in favour of the concern written all over her servant’s expression.

“I’m alright! I…”

She stopped mid-sentence, watching most helplessly as Claire, with cheeks blushing a shade of bright red like that of a ripe apple, leaned in and embraced her with what felt like all of the warmth and tightness of the world upon her undeathly flesh. Where as it all happened, the scent of lightly sprinkled lavender perfume filled her senses just as easily as the softness of warm silk graced her fingers.

“You’re beautiful, Claire,” Elena said as she blushed a bright green, the dryness of her tongue more than acute as she let the mortal warmth she loved so much overtake her. “Yeah! That’s what I wanted to say. I don’t know why I was so nervous, but… I just wanted to say that, and I…”

“Then don’t say anything else,” Claire whispered, tightening her embrace upon her mistress as tears formed in her brown eyes. “I’m glad to be here, with you.”

“Wait…” Elena asked, her voice little more than a whisper as she felt a wetness form upon the skin of her shoulders. “Why the hell are you crying? I didn’t…”

Taking a step back, Claire flicked away the tears in her eyes with a gloved finger and smiled at her mistress.

“No, silly! I’m just… very happy. It’s been quite a while since I’ve gone for an event like this! I’ve been here a few times when I was still working with Heretic, but I’ve never been here as of late! And especially not with someone so special!”

“Huh, okay?”

Elena furrowed her brow as she said this. Mortals were indeed complex creatures. Even if she was one herself centuries back. Not that it mattered, though, for she was sure that all that mattered now, at this very moment, was the moment itself as it unfolded before them both.

And perhaps, dare she say it, Iris was right.

“Yeah…” Claire said, her face still blushing a bright red. “I’m glad…”

“So am I,” Elena replied with her best smile, as she took a step back to bow and offer her hand to her servant. “Anyway, shall we?”

With a smile of her own, Claire placed her gloved hand upon the coldness of Elena’s palm.

“Please do!"

And as they walked hand in hand into the theatre, to their table set for two, Elena found herself smiling still as she led the way. After all, it was only the beginning of this beautiful moment. One that she wished would last forever.