Behind His Mask: The First Spell Book

When Kalavan told me what he planned to do for the performance after the wedding, I thought he had more audacity than sense.

“So, let me get this straight,” I said, walking at an easy pace behind him toward the central courtyard where the wedding feast was being held. “You want me to pull my veil over my face like a gentle virgin and then when your back is turned, you want me to pinch your butt?”

“Ass,” he corrected.

“That seems awfully rude,” I said since that wasn’t the only thing he’d asked me to do. That was only the beginning.

“It’s because we can’t make fun of Valance tonight,” Kalavan explained. “The Du…King won’t stand for it. Valance is too angry about your jilting him to put up with my taunting tonight. Jesters are almost never punished, no matter what they do, but I have a bad feeling tonight would be the exception. But I have to make fun of someone important. The court expects it and thinks higher of the nobility and royalty that can handle it.”

“So we’re going to make sport of the over-anxious bride?”

“We have no other choice. Just remember, whatever you do, don’t take off my shield. I’m hiding a prop inside it.”

“Got it,” I said as we stepped out into the middle of the room and both bowed to the head table.

They all clapped and cheered for us as we acted out the opening part of the courtship. He was dressed like a knight while I was dressed like a bride. He wore his knight mask and I wore his lady mask. He knelt to propose to me and I acted delighted. We did a pretend wedding march and faked kneeling in front of the friar. Then his mask kissed each of my hands and then we delicately tapped the mouth shapes of our masks together in a slightly ridiculous kiss.

In that second we were so close I whispered, “Is it always this hot behind a mask?”

“It’s about to get hotter.”

Then we went about blowing kisses to the court while they threw scraps and bones at us, not exactly in mockery, but like rice or flower petals as a couple leaves a church. Anyway, they seemed pretty happy about it.

I walked up to the real bride and gave her a flower—one of the roses from the forbidden garden. She took it and looked remarkably happy. I had to do something nice for her before Kalavan and I ruined her wedding feast.

While I was near King Pevinore at the head table, I noticed something strange. The queen was not there and in her place sat a girl. She was scarcely older than me. I was dumbfounded. She looked exactly like Carly. I walked around the table to get a better look at her, sauntering and taking my sweet time, but it didn’t matter what angle I looked at her, she still looked like Carly. What was she doing in Evander's book?

By that time, I knew Kalavan wanted to get on with the next portion of the performance. I went to the middle of the courtyard and stood next to him. He waved to the head table. I waved too and then smacked his bum. I couldn’t believe how high he jumped. He took my offending hand and turned me toward the guest tables. Then he let go of it to wave to them and I smacked his bum again. He jumped again. I couldn’t believe my hand had actually touched Kalavan’s butt. I wanted to die, but it was only going to get worse.

He held my hands together and scolded me using hugely exaggerated finger-wagging. I freed myself from his grasp and unbuckled the belt around his waist that held his sword and scabbard. Clenching them to my chest, I ran away and he chased me.

The crowd found us intensely amusing and rocked with laughter until some of them cried. The chase went on and on until Kalavan signaled to proceed with the next part of the play. Behind a pillar, down one of the hallways, I placed the belt and the sword where Kalavan instructed me to hide the props. Then I went back to the courtyard where Kalavan was scratching his helmeted head.

Like he wanted, he still had his shield. The next piece of clothing I was to get from him was another belt. It was the one that kept his tunic in place. I snatched it while he was pretending to get his imaginary horse ready and a similar scene ensued.

When I came back to the courtyard, Valance’s new bride looked a good deal less happy than earlier. Beside her, Carly's doppelganger was sitting on the King’s lap.

Off came Kalavan's tunic after that. It was while he pretended to take a nap next to a pillar. I hadn’t left much on him. He wore his mask, helmet, chain mail, tunic, gauntlets, leggings, and boots. His shield was still clamped to his forearm. The crowd laughed till their sides were sore as I outwitted him out of all his clothes except his mask, his shield, and his last layer of underwear.

The last thing I was supposed to remove from him was his undershirt. By that point, sweat was pouring down my sides and I felt like the makeup Kalavan had put on my face must have rubbed on the inside of the mask. I licked my lips. They were salty and caked in powder. It was the last thing he wanted me to do. I couldn’t do it, but I had to. It was absolutely the last thing. He told me he would take care of the rest of the performance from there and I only had to react to whatever he did. He promised me if I just stood there, that would be enough.

He wanted me to rip his shirt down the middle—an open display of lust—to mock the bride. The shirt was a loose white weave like cheesecloth. It would be easy to tear, but my nerves were failing me. I crept up behind him. Then it occurred to me that he didn’t say which middle he wanted me to rip down. I didn’t have to rip down the front. I could rip down the back. That would be much easier for me.

I grasped his collar from behind and pulled it as hard as I could. It ripped and the sound pierced the night. Everyone was silent. Kalavan’s shoulders fell and his whole torso bent forward like he was going to fall to his knees. CLATTER! The mask he was wearing fell to the ground. The shield fell and landed with a BANG! His shirt slid off his arms and landed between the mask and the shield.

Then slowly, like a marionette on strings, he turned around to face me. He was wearing the red mask—Mephisto—the Devil.

The courtyard was as quiet as a crypt.

I screamed. I didn’t scream because I was afraid. I screamed because he hadn’t backed down from taking his revenge. He had decided to poke at Valance after all and he had used the red mask as his tool, saying Valance was nothing more than a devil.

I wound up and slapped his face. The mask went flying and when it hit cobblestones, it shattered. He said I could react any way I wanted.

For a moment, his features were set. Then as the moment passed, he bent and picked up his discarded knight mask. He put it on. Then he drew me into his arms and put our masks together like we were kissing.

I heard him whisper, “Very well done. Bow.”

We broke apart and bowed to the crowd. The applause was so loud, it was almost deafening.

Thanks for reading! Behind His Mask: The First Spell Book by Stephanie Van Orman is available for FREE for a limited time on Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Apple Books, KOBO, Smashwords, DriveThru Fiction, GooglePlay, and more. Check it out! And then read the second book Hidden Library: The Second Spell Book. Enjoy!