Matilda The Mask Maker.

Thousands of people crowded the palace of Alemana; some wealthy, some not. Some invited, some kept away by the guards. But all of them were there to see what the mask maker had come up with.

The party went on inside. Everyone danced to the best orchestra, dined on the best food, and talked with the best of company. Prince Corduroy looked down at the sea of colors and masks. Each one was beautiful and well done, but he was only interested in what the girl had come up with. What no one had ever seen before. Of course, this was on everyone’s mind. How would the Mask Maker outdo them all?

Everyone stopped as the trumpets sounded. The small man in white tights and a purple top cleared his throat once again:

“She has never accepted an invitation to a masquerade before but when she does, of course it is the party to celebrate our most handsome and clever prince’s 27th birthday. She is such a master of her craft that she herself never takes off her mask and was instructed to make something magnificent. Something nobody’s ever seen before. I hereby present to you, Matilda the Mask Maker.”

Everyone turned to look for her…but all they saw was a skinny girl with tangled blonde hair…and no mask.

No mask.

No mask. Just a face. The plain face of a twenty-year-old girl who makes masks for a living.

There she was, people soon realized, the girl who wear’s a mask when nobody else does becomes the only person in the room without anything to hide behind.

Matilda walked past people as if nothing had happened. Everything was silent. She stopped in front of the prince with her hands on her hips.

“If you ask me,” she said to him, “I really think I outdid myself on this one.”

“What…is this? I asked you to make me something—“

“That no one’s every seen before. I know what you said, your highness. No one has ever seen this,” she said, pointing to her face.

The prince gaped at her like a fish out of water.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll be leaving now. Jan!” The boy emerged from the crowd and followed after Matilda. When they were outside the palace Jan looked at her.

“Do you think that was the smart thing to do?”

“I have no idea but it sure was clever, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was pretty magnificent.”

“I hate that word,” Matilda took off her heels and carried them in her left hand, “Well, I guess we’re walking home, buddy.”

“Well, this sucks.”

“Oh, it’s only three miles. I think we can make it. Hey, mailman, can you hold my shoes in your purse.”

“I don’t have it with me and it’s a satchel.”

“It’s a purse and you know it.”

“It’s a satchel!”

And they bickered happily ever after.