Carnival of Masks & Miracles by Jenna Rose
There were only a few things Orelia was sure of: Magic wasn’t real, and neither was the supernatural.
It was all a marketing ploy to take advantage of the gullible and vulnerable. Everyone tried to make a coin out of anything in Venice, nothing was sacred. Everything became a charade to make life more bearable or give it meaning even, but most of the time, it was to distract oneself from misery.
However, Orelia couldn’t deny that a twist of fate was guiding her through the crowd of Saint Martin’s Square towards the Doge Palace. The contents of the letter remained stuck on her mind ever since she had received it over a month ago. Some nights she would pull the letter out just to make sure it was real, and she remembered it correctly.
“I’ll be there for the last day of the Carnival”, it said, “after you told me so much about it, I want to experience that with you at least once! The journey will be difficult, I won’t lie. But I’ll be there, I promise.”
And Orelia clung to that promise ever since. After all, her closest friend Beatrice wouldn’t joke about that, considering how little time they usually would have together. It was quite a chore to travel across the Alps from the Holy Roman Empire to reach Venice, especially during this season... For that reason alone, Beatrice and her family would stay in the area for at least a year or two before heading back once business was done.
Was she willing to take that struggle just to spend the last day of the Carnival together?
Her heart skipped a beat at the question alone and the possibility that she could be wrong about it after all was something that left her short of breath. Would the revelation offer her the highest form of delight or was she going to be crushed by the answer?
All Orelia needed to do for the time being was to reach the Doge Palace and leave those worries for another day.
With all the colorful masqueraded figures around, it was difficult to make anybody out in the crowd. Even with the description of her costume in the letter, Orelia wandered up and down the entrance with no result. Something could have delayed her journey or disrupted it altogether, maybe bandits have gotten hold of her, or she was now lost wandering the Alps, her carriage crashed or—
“You must have hurried to be on time! And here I thought that I was going to be the one who’d have to wait for you!”
A voice behind her had Orelia flinch, and she turned to find yet another costumed woman, though she recognized the elements: a flowing, green dress with golden embroidery, a fitting headscarf to conceal her hair, upon her head was a copper laurel wreath and the outfit was rounded off with an Ivory volto mask.
“I hope, I haven’t worried you...”, she added in a quick mumble and bowed.
“N-No, it’s all right! I’m glad to see that you made it!” Orelia mentally thanked her own mask that hid her nervousness, but she hoped that her joy was obvious in her voice. She hesitated for a moment before opening her arms as Orelia tilted her head. “Haven’t you asked me for a hug, yet, because it’ll ruin your dress, or is it something else?”
A giggle passed the stoic mask and Beatrice threw her arms around the other. The muffled chuckles reached her ear and Orelia hummed along as she returned the embrace.
“Well, I thought that my fancy general would want to keep her appearance up!”, Beatrice replied as she nuzzled to her neck some more.
‘General’, huh? Well, her outfit might give a sense of that: a dark red, fancy uniform with enough ruffles and gems everywhere to make any navy captain jealous.
Orelia gave her another squeeze before releasing her. “Are you kidding me? I haven’t seen you in forever! Etiquette is the last thing on my mind, especially during the Carnival!”
“It was a silly assumption, I’ll admit”, hummed Beatrice before taking the other by her arm and bumping her elbow into her side. “Can I make it up to you with a round of dancing by any chance? Drinks included, of course.”
“Then what are we waiting for? It’s been too long since we fooled around like that!” Orelia pulled and guided her towards the square; a few heads turned at all the giggling passing by, though no one gave a comment. This night brought out the strangest occurrences and individuals after all.
As the duo returned to the festivities, they were offered countless distractions all around: street musicians on every corner, acrobats in some others, a bunch of booths, a troop of mediums and palm readers and they passed cages of exotic animals. Some of these, Orelia had only seen in pictures, and she found her eyes glued on the zebra before her sight was obscured by a group of children.
Beatrice caressed her arm, the warmth of her palm seeped through the cloth. “We can take another round by the animals later if you want! Then we can get a closer look, don’t you think?”
Orelia could feel her cheeks grow hot under the mask and veil and she tensed before shaking her head. She placed her hand over the other’s as if to thank her for her consideration. “I’ve promised you a proper round of dancing first!”
“Psh, I was the one who offered it, not you! Neither was that a promise”, retorted Beatrice in a laugh. “And we’re both supposed to have fun tonight, not just me!”
Orelia already looked for a patch that wasn’t all too occupied by dancers. Easier said than done, disguises and alcohol eased anybody’s possible shame. “I wanted for you to have a special evening, you know... I get to come here every year, so if I miss something, it’s no big deal! But for you, on the other hand...”
“What if I want to see the animals, too? What then?”, she teased. Beatrice then let out a sigh and placed her head upon the other’s shoulder. “And besides... Being here with you makes this evening special already, so don’t worry about it.”
Oh, but Orelia worried. About what, she couldn’t exactly pinpoint. Beatrice was as blunt as she was graceful, and Orelia wondered if she knew what those words did to her. Certainly, Beatrice wasn’t a fool, but perhaps she was oblivious to it. Then again, why was Orelia getting so worked up to begin with? It was nice to hear that she enjoyed her company after all and if Beatrice said so, it must have been the truth.
“If my Mistress wishes to go see the animals, we might as well”, Orelia finally pressed out. She couldn’t even put on a smirk to hide the tremor in her voice, so Orelia hoped that the mask would be enough. “But first: dancing. We’ve established that.”
Beatrice let out a sigh yet wouldn’t move from her side snuggle. “I’ve already told you to relax... But if you want to hold hands with me that badly...”
“Oh shush, you!” Orelia bumped her back, though they soon fell into a round of giggles as they clung close.
Eventually, the duo found a spot to their liking and settled on a dance; their homes had their own traditions after all. Beatrice was quite assertive when it was her turn and Orelia let her guide her through a few steps, though not without laughing. Not that she was complaining, she enjoyed the confident hold on her. Everything around them had blurred into a sea of colors and sounds, the many masks on each figure could become unsettling if focused on too much. It was almost a twisted game of hide and seek in which everyone was cloaked from plain sight, yet every pair of eyes became the hopeless pursuer.
After all, no one could indite you if you were to let go of certain restraints. Simply indulging in forbidden needs and wishes without any care was what this festival was about. What usually was sinful became a welcome distraction for not even God would be able to glance behind the disguise, apparently. And with that knowledge, people drank, danced, and loved without restraint as they spiraled into ecstasy. It buzzed in the air even then, Orelia couldn’t deny that the swirl of euphoria wasn’t getting to her as well while she pressed close against the other in their dance.
This state was addictive, how it dared her to devour every immediate urge, burning out every possible line of reasoning. Her fingers stroked her sides, curled, and pressed in on Beatrice’s hips, chasing every bit of warmth with her palms without a second thought. Beatrice didn’t fight this itch, on the contrary, she leaned into her touch and returned the caresses in lavish, daring strokes. Orelia knew how hot the flames of bliss could burn, the hunger it could cause, something of unspeakable longing.
But then again, who would ever come to know about it?
Orelia shook her head against it all and their dance came to a stop. She needed to clear her mind, otherwise, the Carnival would mess with her head a little more than intended. Beatrice took hold of her hands and squeezed them as if to help her concentrate.
“Are you alright?”, she asked, “do you need a break? It is awfully stuffy still...”
Orelia swallowed against the lump in her throat. “W-What about those drinks you promised? I could use a drink or two by now!” She hid her swirl of emotions behind a laugh and pulled her to the side, so they wouldn’t bump into dancers so much. Though she could feel Beatrice’s gaze on her, trying to understand what was going on, yet she didn’t probe further.
“Sure, why not? What would a festival be without drinks, uh?” And Orelia was grateful that her Mistress left it at that.
People would say that wine calmed the nerves and elevated your mood, so it came as no surprise how many visitors gravitated towards the bars. Orelia could very much relate to that need right then and the couple ordered red wine before finding their own corner by one of the standing tables. It was bothersome to have to lift both her mask and veil to be able to take sips, yet it was all the more worth it to get a glimpse of Beatrice, too.
The woman rose her cup to her lips, taking a proper gulp and Orelia watched a drop of wine trickle out of the corner of her mouth. Beatrice chased it with her tongue and let out a relieved sigh before setting the cup and mask back down. There was a hint of lipstick left behind on the cup and Orelia couldn’t help but envy the clay. She had seen the color often enough on Beatrice’s lips, the shade of red reminiscent of sweet ripe cherries.
“Are you not liking your wine?” Her question had Orelia snap out of her thoughts. Hopefully, her staring might not have been too obvious thanks to her mask. “Would you have preferred mead?”
“N-No, it’s all good, I just...” Orelia struggled with her words, she couldn’t admit that she was outright staring at the familiar shape of her lips. She cleared her throat and continued: “Just trying to enjoy it, that’s all! Haven’t had alcohol in a while...”
“An Italian hasn’t had wine in a while? Oh, my General, I don’t think that I’ve heard a worse lie than that!”, Beatrice chuckled before waving her off, “but I won’t embarrass you any further. Though that’s only because I want to watch the fireworks with you!”
“You don’t need to worry… I would have done so either way. It’s not like we can miss much of it anyway unless we were to leave Venice”, Orelia snorted and took another sip. The sour taste was welcome on her tongue, distracting her, and the amount was starting to lighten her head. Beatrice followed her example and offered a chuckle, passing by without any mask in the way. Orelia smirked and set down the cup again. “Didn’t know you wanted to spend so much time with me, I’m honored!”
She huffed another laugh and shook her head, though unable to answer for a while as the background noise filled the silence. Her hands were clasped around the cup, her gaze lowered on the rest of the dark liquid before facing Orelia again.
“I wouldn’t miss this chance for anything in the world.”
Orelia caught her breath. Everything within her begged to drop this charade and reveal themselves to one another in more ways than one. Instead, she downed the last bit of her wine, then reached to take hold of her hand. “Want to find a spot? It shouldn’t take much longer until they set off the fireworks.”
Their fingers tangled and her Mistress squeezed her hand. “Lead the way, General.”
There were many spots to choose from, yet the Carnival was well visited and thus, overcrowded. It was calming to know that they were one of many, blending in this crowd of people. Even those who weren’t masked didn’t stand out; they were all visitors of this spectacle.
Beatrice clung to her arm some more as they shoved themselves through the masses to get to a venue that wouldn’t obscure their view too much. The architecture in Venice was a sight to behold as it decorated the horizon, though now it was more in the way. Even without the fireworks, the clear sky was stunning on its own with its bright moon and twinkling stars. All the music and acrobatic acts came to an end, only the idle chatter filled the silence. The Carnival would come to its end, and everyone would disperse to return to their former, proper selves as if this night had never occurred.
There was some melancholy to it, Orelia realized. Time passed by so quickly, they ought to cherish these few moments of joy they were allowed rather than to focus on grim reality all the time. Magic and the supernatural were all fake, true. However, perhaps there was something miraculous to a few moments in life anyway.
“I’m so glad that you made the journey”, Orelia mumbled before taking her eyes off the sky, “and are here with me, safe and sound.”
Beatrice turned her gaze towards the other; now that they were so close, Orelia could see her eyes underneath the lace veil. She could even make out the soft hum as Beatrice took hold of her hand.
“So am I. We don’t get chances like that often.”
“We really don’t.”
Before Orelia could add anything else or even ponder about those words, the first set of rockets was shot into the sky. Awe spread within the crowd as the colors exploded before their eyes in bright sparks. What once was a canopy of dark blue and cold, white spots, was now illuminated in colorful sparkles. Their embers burnt out in midair, floating down, and disappeared into the night. When Orelia thought that the previous burst was a beauty of its own, the next one stunned her, too. She could feel Beatrice squeeze her arm with every burst in the beginning, but soon it calmed with occasional flinches.
Orelia couldn’t keep from smiling over it, Beatrice was too cute. Her eyes wandered from the display to her companion, finding in herself the wish to witness the excitement on her features. Part of her wanted to pull off her mask altogether, though that would be both rude and sudden. Before she could stop herself, Orelia heard herself ask:
“What would it take for you to put down your mask right now?”
Beatrice didn’t react at first, mesmerized by the sight before registering the question. She turned with a faint “huh?” as she tilted her head.
“You don’t ask for something without offering something in return, right? That’s how businesswomen work”, she then replied in a singsong.
“What about a kiss then?”
Those words passed her lips quicker than Orelia could understand. The realization hit her, and she froze on the spot, yet she didn’t take it back either. Perhaps, the other would think of this as a joke. This festival made Orelia daring, the disguises enough to not scrutinize every decision as no one could scold her but Beatrice. Thus, she allowed for this wish to enter her mind, to take hold of her, for the first time in her life, knowing full well that there was no jest behind it. It was a surge of need and affection that was kept buried for the longest time.
“Hmh... That would be a fair trade, I suppose.”
Orelia couldn’t believe her ears. Her mind was buzzing, shutting out everything that wasn’t them in this very moment while her heart dared to break her ribs. The tension that followed could be cut by a knife as they only had eyes for one another. Beatrice’s ivory mask shimmered in the colors of the firework as Orelia cupped her palms around it. A minuscule part of her was afraid to remove her mask as if that act could make the other disappear or, even worse, reveal Beatrice to be someone else. Her fingertips pressed against the hard shell before slipping underneath the rim and she pulled. Beatrice let her do so without complaint and soon enough, her mask was off with the veil still attached to her headscarf.
Orelia let out a shaking sigh. It really was Beatrice, smiling up at her without any worry in the world. Her Mistress followed her example and took hold of her mask, too.
“May I?”, she asked, “Or have you changed your mind?”
One could interpret this question in many ways: ‘did you expect someone else?’, ‘are you getting cold feet?’, ‘are you afraid?’. But Orelia could feel how regret slipped from her and confidence returned. Bliss tingled along her skin; she could only describe it as liberating. However, Orelia didn’t reply and instead placed her hands over the others to take her mask off, remaining in her veil. Beatrice let out a shaking laugh as her gaze trailed off, her fingers finding their new hold on her neck.
“So... Are we really going to do this?”, she hummed before biting her lower lip, still a bit too bashful to return her gaze.
By God, Orelia wanted to kiss her stupid. She placed a finger under her chin and raised her head to meet her eyes again.
“Only if my lovely Mistress wishes to.”
“Oh, I’ve told you already... Tonight isn’t just about what I want. If my dear General agrees, then...” Beatrice pushed up her veil enough to reveal her lips to her. Orelia couldn’t keep from staring, the cherry color evermore inviting. Her own heartbeat rang between her ears, drowning out anything and everything. She fiddled with her veil, trying not to look too eager, but panic crept up on her, too, as they edged close. Orelia could feel her breath, it tickled a bit, and both fell into a fit of chuckles, hesitating. The bursts of the fireworks were mere background noise now, the lights they emitted and this entire city as unimportant as ever.
Then it happened. Beatrice brushed her lips over hers ever so delicately as if afraid to break something, but the contact was enough to send sparks down her spine. Orelia let out a soft sound before chasing after it, deepening the kiss with newfound longing. Her head was spinning, no alcohol could compare. Yet, Orelia found herself calmer and closed her eyes as they lost themselves in the intimacy, slow and affectionate. Even breathing was a shame as it meant to part from her mouth, growing addicted to this moment between them.
Then, Beatrice mouthed low words against her lips, the voice so faint that Orelia almost thought she had imagined it:
“I love you.”
And as soon as the meaning slipped into her mind, she edged back in shock, her eyes wide and face pale. Orelia blinked against the growing storm in her mind and watched as Beatrice slinked back in shame.
“You... You can’t be serious...”, she muttered which caused the other to shrink some more. Orelia cursed to herself, knowing that if she didn’t carefully pick her words, she was going to hurt Beatrice. “It’s just... What sense is there to lay yourself bare if we’re all only specters of this festival? Gone with the rays of sunshine the next day?”
Beatrice struggled with her own voice, fighting against the tears forming in her eyes. She took a deep breath before looking back up at her as her figure trembled terribly. All Orelia wanted to do was to embrace her, but what comfort could she offer when it was her that caused pain in Beatrice?
“I-I know it’s foolish and perhaps even downright cowardly to do so during a festival where you hide... But when else than tonight could I confess to those feelings?” Without consequence or disgrace, that was. Beatrice reached out to take hold of the other’s jacket and she leaned her forehead against her chest as she let out a few sobs. “Even if I’m only allowed to love you whole for just one night... I’d rather have that than never experience the heartbreak and live as usual... Because it’s worth it, you’re worth it.”
Orelia caught her own breath and lifted her head as she felt her eyes filling with tears, too. Her words had her chest tighten on her heart and she placed her arms around the other, then pulled her close. Her name dropped from her lips, she wanted to apologize over and over, yet she stopped herself.
After all, they only had so little time together.
Orelia nuzzled close to her while her hands wandered up and down her back, hoping to soothe her somehow. Then, Orelia couldn’t fight her tears anymore either and she trembled as she sobbed. Beatrice was still owed an answer and at this point, Orelia knew that she couldn’t ignore the confusing mess on her mind anymore, that she had to face it. Her Mistress deserved the truth above all else.
“I love you, too. Much more than I ever understood.” Or admitted to, but Beatrice must have known what that was like.
It wasn’t fair for the flames of euphoria to lead them so far, only to crash them with the reality of tomorrow. However, hearing that much had Beatrice chuckle between her sobs and she peeked up at Orelia. Despite all the sorrow, seeing her soft smile never failed to make her smile, too.
“T-That makes me so happy... Who could have known that my General loves me back?” Beatrice leaned her forehead against hers before closing her eyes while her sobs calmed. “But maybe we can have this night, just for us…”
“Yes, a night where I can... Love you with all myself.” It was still difficult to say it, now that Orelia was allowed to experience her feelings. She pressed another kiss on her lips and even with the veils in their way, Orelia couldn’t get enough of it. “Would my wonderful Mistress bless me with her presence until morning comes?”
“That would be... Absolutely delightful, my love.”
The crowd didn’t pay any mind to the couple that vanished from the spectacle of music and colors. Hand in hand, they placed their masks back on and slipped away. After all, they were yet another duo of masqueraded figures.
Nothing to recognize or even remember in this ocean of hidden personalities.
But to the couple, it was so much more than that. They found themselves free of their shackles within those disguises, to understand what laid beneath their own mask. Whatever the next day would hold, they couldn’t care for it.
After all, what else could there be but themselves, born anew by their love and the tragedy of their star-crossed fate?
“This idea had haunted me for a while, and I never was quite sure how to translate the imagery on my brain into words. When I finally did, I was glad to have pushed through to create this piece. However, with every reread, I became more and more convinced that this wasn't worth showing anywhere, so I shelved it. There are elements that I genuinely enjoy while other aspects may end up making this whole story a mess. While I still don't know if this would be worth it to be seen broadly, others may relate to this jumble of emotion around and within this story. And honestly, even if imperfect, this couple deserves a home.”
Jenna Rose (she/her) is a German author, an English studies major, and a history enthusiast that enjoys a good cup of tea. During her free time, she may stroll in town, indulge in a video game, or get lost in Wikipedia. You can find her on Twitter @ScarabScribbles.