Masquerade [Kuskovo Estate]

[Carter de Volthström]

Carter & Guillaume

“Look at this!” Carter hurried into the room where his cousin, Guillaume was sipping an espresso in his bathrobe, silk pants, and slippers. In contrast to Carter’s energy, Guillaume did not look up from what he was reading on the screen in front of him. He murmured a noise that indicated a half-hearted attempt at listening.

Carter pushed his own wallet screen in front of his nose. Guillaume glanced, but he was unsurprised by the image displayed there.

“Let me guess,” he began. His French accent was heavy. “You found another series of evidence that Colette is, as they say, ‘living it up’ in Moscow and you are following her breadcrumbs like a character in a folk story.”

Carter sank into a nearby seat, rubbing his hands on his face. “Look at that. She’s hardly been in the city any significant length of time, going to all these clubs, meeting all these people, and now read that caption:

Thrilled to attend my first Moscow Masquerade! In honor of this gurl’s amazing family. Can't wait to see the stunning masks and what everyone is wearing! Here’s a sneak peek! #MasqueradeMagic #NewAdventures”

Carter explored as much information as he could on Colette’s new friend, whose beautiful face was smiling seductively for the pose. It was obvious this masquerade party was exclusive even if it was going to be large.

Guillaume finally set his screen aside, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Cousin, when will you learn? Nothing is impossible for the resourceful."

"Resourceful? I'm desperate here, Gui.”

Guillaume mused. "There's a fine line, mon ami. Now, listen, I may have a way to get us into this masquerade. But it will require you to put your pride aside."

Carter leaned forward, interest piqued. "I'll do anything to see her.”

"Even manual labor?" Guillaume's smirk grew wider.

"If it gets me through the door, I'll perform as a court jester.”

"Ah, that might be less effective for wooing your lady love," Guillaume mused, tapping his chin theatrically. "But fear not, I know someone who owes me a favor. An artist who owes me a favor.”

”I don’t want to know how.”

Guillaume's eyes sparkled.

Carter leaned forward, a renewed sense of hope in his posture. "What's the plan?”

Guillaume rose, stretching leisurely. "First, we meet ma vieille. And Carter, remember, sometimes the mask reveals more than it hides.” He pat him on the shoulder as he walked by, already contacting this old friend of his.

Carter and Guillaume arrived at the party in the company of the musicians performing that night. Guillaume was flirting with the lead singer, a woman whom he’d met last year and shared an intense weekend before the tour took her elsewhere.

Carter felt like a fool unloading instrument cases in a full tuxedo and mask. Nearby, Guillaume was assisting his vieille with her belongings as if he was the world’s leading expert in musical paraphernalia. He rolled his eyes and hefted a heavy amplifier and placed it on a cart.

This of course functionally gained them entrance to the party after Carter’s honor to pay back this favor was balanced. He escaped to a bathroom after the work was done to make sure his look and hair was undisturbed. By the time he emerged, the party had begun. Guillaume was no where to be found, but Carter assumed that he’d already found someone to hook up with for the night.

Carter checked his Wallet, finding a cryptic message from his cousin waiting there. “Go get her.”

He smiled to himself, tucked the wallet back into his pocket, and procured a glass of champagne.