Diamonds and Nicotine

Just as Tristan LeBlanc had promised, his grand Masquerade Ball was no dull affair. It was clear he did not reserve any form of expenses to make this night one to remember. The courtyard had been completely transformed into a grand ballroom, with an arrangement of delicacies and food laid out on tables and sharply dressed waiters carrying flutes of fine champagne through the crowd. On one side of the wide space, a small group of musicians played classical music and a few hired dancers waltzed on the dance floor, encouraging the guests to join in.

“Invite, please.” the gatekeeper said. “And please hand your personal items to the guard for a quick sweep.”

Noir handed him the ivory invitation card and passed her clutch and mask over to the uniformed security guard without protest. The guard opened the clutch, shined his flashlight into the small compartment briefly before handing it back. He quickly scanned the mask before also returning it. He nodded to the gatekeeper, who looked back to Noir and smiled.

“You are all set, Mademoiselle Merlo.” he said. “Enjoy your evening.”

Noir smiled and nodded before entering the ballroom. She looked around her surroundings, silently searching for Valerio.

Vivienne Valerio had told her to just leave her be, in a hurry to be rid of her companion. The thief didn’t miss the hint of dismissiveness and disgust in her contractor’s manner as she literally brushed her off.
Noir hummed to herself, adjusting her mask over her eyes as she looked around.
Makes my job easier. she thought to herself.

It didn’t take long for her to find the jeweler though, as she had seated herself amongst some of the A-list guests, laughing and a drink already in her hand.
Noir scoffed to herself, unamused. At least one of us was going to enjoy the night. she thought.

She tucked her clutch under her arm as she maneuvered through the moving crowd, making her way towards the stairs into the castle. While the masquerade ball was the main festivities of the night, there was a second feature LeBlanc had set up for his guests: his premium selection diamond gala. It was his best cuts and designs hand-picked for this occasion, set in display cases for all to admire. And inside was where Mademoiselle Noir had business.

The sound of Mozart’s Symphony No. 40, in G minor flowed and reverberated through the air as Noir made her way up the steps and into the entrance hall.

The crowd was much thinner and more reserved than it was out in the courtyard but it was not empty in the least. Elegant pairs and patrons graced the halls, admiring every piece of showcased craft as they slowly made their way through the gallery.
Noir offered a small smile at the guards standing at the corner before smoothly joining the crowd and casually surveyed the pieces in the glass cases as she followed the flow of the observers. Of course, she had no interest in what was in these cases; as beautiful as they were, they were not her targets. That, and the fact that the abundance of live guards posted at every corner made it a high risk and immensely difficult to swipe anything on display.

Noir let out a silent sigh under her breath and she adjusted her hold on her masquerade mask handle as she stopped at one of the display cases. She was shaking again; she could feel it in the weakness of her knuckles as she gripped onto her mask handle.

It’s getting worse, she thought, feeling a little short with herself.

This was no time to be feeling faint, or worse. God forbid, if she were to collapse, that would be a waste of the little time that she had.

With that determination in mind, Noir took the time to collect and gather her composure. Without moving the slightest with her posture or casual pose, she inhaled slowly and exhaled, willing her mind to focus on what was in front of her and not the instability she felt. She adjusted the clutch tucked under her arm and her eyes fixated on the thick protective glass, where a diamond and sapphire encrusted dazzling tiara sat on its black velvet cushion. Yet it wasn’t the beauty of the piece that caught her breath in her throat but the fact that someone was staring back at her. It was only then that she saw in the faint reflection of the glass that a sharply dressed figure was standing awfully close to her back. She saw the masculine masquerade mask with the ace of spades over the left eye in the reflection and immediately felt cold. She hadn’t heard or even felt him approach.

Noir didn’t turn around but she knew that he knew she saw him with that confident smirk that pulled at his lips.

“Truly a beautiful sight amongst a hall of jewels,” he said, his voice deep and smooth like velvet.

Noir inhaled silently, setting a small polite smile on her face as she forced herself to fight the urge to wheel around. She did not enjoy having the man so close to her back that was completely bared in this ridiculous dress in the least bit. Discretely she tilted her chin down in a seemingly timid gesture as she slowly turned. As she turned, she caught the nameplate of the encased piece in front of her.



Noir faced him with that polite smile and gasped, as if she didn’t realize how close he had situated himself to her. Clearly by design; there was no way she could slip by him. Noir played along, jolting slightly and letting out a small cry that mimicked surprise.
“Oh! M-my…” she stammered, going to take a seemingly instinctive step back.

But the man immediately stepped forward, with reflexes Noir only knew few to have. His left arm had shot forward from behind him and swiftly found its way around her lower back and pulled her back, keeping her from being able to move any further back. Noir unintentionally reacted, her right hand that was holding the mask taking hold of his upper arm. But he only chuckled, the sound only a low rumble in his throat.
“Watch out; you’ll trip the alarm.” he said, and Noir didn’t miss the amusement in his tone.
The new and renewed proximity made her excessively uneasy and it took all her might not to snarl and shove him away. Instead she settled with an uneasy laugh under her breath, and she looked over her shoulder to avoid eye contact.

Indeed; she was a bit too close to the display case, and from the corner of her eye she could see the two security guards keeping an eye on the two of them.

“Oh...” Noir said, her voice slightly shaky.

Lightly she cleared her throat and gently pushed on the man’s chest with her left hand. He stepped back, allowing it, even helping her right herself like a gentleman. Once she was securely on her feet he finally pulled back, but kept his hand on her elbow.
Noir brushed a stray strand of curled hair off of her face and tucked it behind her ear before she spoke again. She kept the mask off of her face, fiddling with it in a nervous manner in her hands.
“Monsieur Chen, bonsoir.” she greeted him. “I am sorry, I am awfully clumsy; I was just admiring this piece and I didn’t even notice---”
She cut herself off, briefly closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She then turned back to the encased tiara and gave it an admiring gaze.
“Elegance of Eleanor, inspired by the great queen Eleanor of Aquitaine…rumors truly does not do the piece justice.” she sighed out. “The cuts, the styling and grade are impeccable…”

Chen smiled, and pulled the mask off from his face. The amused look had yet to leave his face as he turned to the showcase before them. He hummed, as if to be inspecting the piece closely.
“It is a fine work of art; one of LeBlanc’s finest.” he agreed mildly. “But that wasn’t the beauty I was talking about.”

Noir kept a smile on her face and kept herself from twitching. He was playing that sophisticated aristocrat role very well, right down to the cheesy, overused ‘classy’ pick-up line.
But before she could say anything in reply he straightened his posture and glanced down the hallway to where the entrance to the courtyard was.
“It’s becoming much lively now.” he noted.

Noir only hummed, feeling very uncomfortable. He still had one hand on her elbow and he made no motion to let go.

“It would be a shame for this perfect opportunity to go to waste.” he said.
Before Noir could protest, Chen had turned around, tucking her hand in at the crook of his arm, holding it in place with his other hand. His masquerade mask was back over his eye, though it did nothing to hide that sharp edge that glinted in his eyes.

“Mademoiselle Rosa Merlo, I believe you owe me a dance.”