Diamonds and Nicotine

The magnificent architecture of the Château de Pierrefonds stood proudly in the night sky, lights bringing the castle to life as the sweet sound of music flowed through the cool evening air. The guests were starting to show, filling the air with a soft yet lively chatter and finely dressed pairs made their way into the party at a leisurely pace.
Tristan LeBlanc looked out into the growing crowd from the high balcony, feeling a sense of superiority flowing through him.
It was already a making of a magnificent night in the making--- LeBlanc made sure of that.

“Spectacular,” he boomed to himself. “This is a sight fit for a king,”

“It is quite grandeur, but you and I define ‘spectacular’ much differently.” a smooth voice from the shadows said casually.

LeBlanc inhaled deeply and sighed, before turning around to glare into the deep corners of the unlit room behind him. He hadn’t heard him come in, which unnerved him greatly.
“And what do you know about grandeur, Ace of Spades?” he questioned. “A person like you, who scrape around for any jobs that drop down in the depth of the underground like cretins in the dirt couldn’t possibly understand the sophistication of class.”

To that biting comment, a reply of light chuckles was returned.
“I can’t say I disagree to that.” Ace said. “But even a cretin like me has a sense of pride in the little that we do have. And in many sense, it’s invaluable as it can’t be bought with any amount of riches.”

This time, LeBlanc scoffed and turned back to the view, letting out a dubious laugh.
“Ha, how commendable.” he mocked. “And what might be so great of value that gold couldn’t possibly buy?”

“I’m afraid it’s a sentiment a person of high class, such as yourself, couldn’t fathom.” Ace said. “It may be bland for someone with such refined tastes.”

“In other words, your value doesn’t matter.” LeBlanc returned haughtily. “So much for receiving an invaluable penniless wisdom.”

“Then how’s this for wisdom, free of charge?” the hired hand said, his voice suddenly chilled.
LeBlanc wheeled around in alarm just to see a lean shadow step into the dim light.

Ace of Spades stood in the moonlight, his suit and vest dark as pitch, the silk shining like venom. A rich dark red tie was neatly secured in a sophisticated eldredge knot, cutting through the black ominously like blood. And on his face was a masquerade mask, simple in design but matching his attire in similar theme. A single black Ace---a spade, covered and framed his left eye, the red accents lining the edgy socket making his gaze flash with lethal intent. Then, slowly and smoothly, the corner of his lips pulled up into a knowing smirk, his icy gaze piercing right into his employer.

“There are monarchs in this country’s history that have lost their heads to their commoner vermin that were supposedly beneath them, all because of their blind obsession of the grandeur and spectacular lifestyle.” he said, his eyes glinting as he smiled. “Can you really afford to be gloating to me, a common vermin, about your high-class sophistication?”

Tristan LeBlanc was stunned to silence, threatened by the subtle but clear menace in his tone and it was as if ice was injected directly into his veins. He stiffened, seemingly lost his own motor skills with just that one gaze. He could practically hear the vulnerable thumping of his heart beating in a panicked pace as one thought came to the forefront of his mind.

He’s dangerous, he thought.

LeBlanc could only stare as the hired hand stepped fully out into the light, almost gliding as he made no sound with each step.

Ace came over to the edge of the balcony railing, his hands casually slipped into his pants pockets.
“I will admit, this is quite a pretty crowd.” he mused. “All the beautiful dresses and suits should make for a very colorful evening.”

LeBlanc blinked, quickly forcing himself to recover.
“Yes, it should.” he agreed numbly. But then he adjusted. “But I do expect that our contract is executed the way we have agreed on, without any colorful distractions.”

Ace smirked, his eyes fixed on the moving crowd down below.
“Like I’ve told you before, everything has been arranged ahead of time. Everything is going according to plan.” he reassured him, looking around.
But then he stopped, tilted his head, and an almost playful smile pulled at his lips.
“In fact, I am a bit ahead of schedule. I may as well enjoy the party now. If you’ll excuse me…”

With that, he pulled away from the balcony and silently glided back into the room.

“Where do you think you’re going?” demanded LeBlanc.

From the dark, the smooth voice carried through the air, and LeBlanc could almost hear him smirking.

“There is a lady to whom I owe a dance.” was all he said before he completely disappeared from the balcony.