Of course, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to believe the cunning fox’s nonsense in the farewell letter left for her, claiming to have learned to let go of hatred and forgive a lover. Yet, he had to admit that the guy had at least said one thing correctly: the love given cannot be taken back.
The brilliant summer swiftly passed, and in the blink of an eye, it was late autumn. On the eve of Halloween, the servants in the villa began preparing for this special holiday. At noon, he suddenly called from the office, excitedly telling her that he would take her to a ball that evening. In fact, she hadn’t been out for a long time. With Evelyn’s help, Khanyi carefully prepared, dressing up as Snow White. With her long, shiny black hair, she didn’t need a wig to play the role, and wearing an exaggerated dress supported by a whalebone structure, along with a bow around her neck, she looked just like a princess from a fairy tale. After changing into her outfit, he returned home early from work and had already been in the living room for a while. She had expected him to dress up as a stunning prince, but to her surprise, he came out of the room wearing a mask of a little red-haired gnome.
When she saw him putting on the mask in front of the mirror, Khanyi couldn’t help but let out a giggle. He was so tall, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, yet wearing a ridiculous rubber headpiece. The overall look was quite mismatched, but he stood in front of the mirror, looking from side to side, seemingly very pleased with his appearance. He took off the headpiece, glanced at the clock on the wall, and then looked at her in her silver princess dress, saying, “This damn thing is too stuffy to wear on my head, but there’s no time to change. We need to go; the ball starts in forty-five minutes.”
As she climbed into the black car, she played with the tuft of red hair and the silly mustache on the mask, and with a hint of confusion, she asked, “Why aren’t you dressing up as a prince?”
“Because I need to match you, my princess. For you, I’d rather turn into a little gnome, serving you hand and foot.” He said this while starting the car.
She felt a warm glow in her heart and teased him, “But a princess and a prince are supposed to be a pair. I wonder if anyone will dress up as a prince at the ball…”
“A masquerade is all about trying something new. If I were a prince, I could just take off the mask, right? Do I need to put on makeup?” He gripped the steering wheel, squinting his ice-blue eyes, saying this with extreme shamelessness. Seeing her mouth agape in surprise, he chuckled to himself. If it weren’t for the rubber headpiece his aide had prepared for him, where would he find a mask for a Halloween masquerade? Moreover, the greatest advantage of this thing was that no one would recognize him.
“How shameless! Where is there such a self-important prince?” she murmured, stealing a glance at his handsome profile in the rearview mirror, knowing in her heart that he was not exaggerating.
He raised his golden eyebrows noncommittally, focusing on driving. Khanyi turned her head to look out the car window, where, in the hazy night, apart from the streetlights, a few villas along the mountain road occasionally flashed into view, their doors adorned with orange lights. She remembered when she studied in the United States, she had attended a masquerade with friends. Originally a holiday related to religion, it had been imbued with a sense of revelry by those yearning for freedom and joy. Among this carnival, the masquerade was the most captivating, especially for girls, who could wear colorful feathered eye masks, various glamorous masks, and elegant gowns, dancing with unfamiliar men, particularly for those girls who were not conventionally beautiful, experiencing a moment of superiority and perfection as a princess. After all, young girls always yearn for romantic encounters and love.
She couldn’t help but sneak another glance at him in the rearview mirror. She saw him rolling down the window halfway, his right hand gripping the steering wheel, while his left hand held a freshly lit cigarette, taking a puff now and then, resting his long fingers on the window glass, letting the smoke drift away with the wind, not entering the car. She silently counted to three in her heart, suddenly launching a surprise attack, trying to snatch the cigarette from his hand. However, he had already noticed her scheme, chuckling as he raised his arm, holding the cigarette out of her reach. Hearing her continuous protests, he gently said, “Please let me finish this one, darling. Once we get to the ball, I won’t be able to smoke with that damn thing on.”
It was a grand ball, attended by men and women in costumes. People wore exaggerated hats, headpieces, and feathered eye masks, making it impossible to recognize anyone. No one could tell that the tall man in a black tuxedo wearing a gnome headpiece was actually someone of significance, nor could they recognize that the petite and lovely “Snow White” in his arms was a girl from the East.
All night long, he danced with her, his strong arms wrapped around her waist. Through the rubber headpiece, his ice-blue eyes gazed affectionately into her dark eyes, hardly leaving her face for a moment. According to proper etiquette, a gentleman and a lady attending a ball only needed to dance the first dance together; from the second song onward, they should give each other space. However, this guy monopolized her for the entire evening, from the romantic and lyrical waltz at the beginning to the light and flowing foxtrot, and then to the lively quickstep.
