Masquerade [Kuskovo Estate]

[Vena]

Vena Shah

She left Scion to his networking in order to dutifully procure them drinks. It was a beautiful place filled with the most beautiful people, and she always enjoyed the elegance of such affairs. Vena circulated languidly on her journey through the Vasiliev’s guests. There were plenty of servers from whom she might have plucked glasses, but her gifts gave her insights, and it was why Scion had sent her out. So she used the opportunity to mingle a little, and greet the faces she knew with genuine delight.

She already knew Maksim was here, though she had not yet seen him or his wife. It was a peripheral awareness she didn’t think about much anymore, just as she could have closed her eyes and pointed to exactly where Scion stood in the crowd. The rest of the connections were like a complex tapestry, given that most people here knew one another to some degree. It made for a plethora of sensation, most of which she saw no need to try and interpret for its triviality.

When she finally paused to select their drinks, though, something did catch about the woman with the tray. It was a taste in the back of her throat, one she associated strongly with home – except there was a twist to it, almost rotten or old or forgotten. And there was something else too. Something that made Vena curious with surprise.

The server was half engaged in conversation with a young man (he was here for a woman, though she did not try to fathom who), and Vena used the opportunity to lightly touch the woman's arm and so invite her attention. It would strengthen her gift, that innocent touch. Though when she did she found herself rushed with dizziness, like someone had tied a knot around her chest and suddenly pulled tight.

“Are you okay?” The concern was polite. The woman searched her face.

“You are sweet to ask. Will you bring the tray?” She searched the young woman’s face in return, smoothed her expression into warmth, and resettled her composure. After a moment the woman nodded, and Vena turned unerringly in the direction she knew Scion to be, though her diminutive height meant she could not see.

He was still talking with Ascendancy. Vena gently touched Scion’s elbow as she returned. Just an affectionate touch between lovers. But he would know it meant she had something to share, when there was an opportunity to speak discreetly. Meanwhile she lifted a drink from the tray the woman held out, and passed it to him. She did not interrupt his conversation with Ascendancy.