Page 36 of Take My Crown

He picks up a plain black mask and slips it over his face. With the mask on, he seems even more sinister than normal, as if he can do anything and get away with it. A shudder runs down my spine as I take the arm he offers me. He might be my father, but I have a feeling he wouldn’t hesitate to deal with me as ruthlessly as he would anyone else if I rebelled against him.

This is why I was biding my time playing the game by his rules for now. I was only going to get one chance to escape, so I needed to take it when it came. Until then, knowledge is power. The more people think I am happy to go along with my father’s ambitions, the more they let down their guard around me and I might learn something useful.

My father escorts me through the labyrinth of corridors, taking me upstairs to the first floor to where there is a landing overlooking the ballroom. Since I’m not allowed to explore the house by myself yet, I try to pay careful attention to where we are going, but I quickly get lost in the enormous building.

All thoughts of escape are gone when I see what is waiting for me in the ballroom. The place is filled with people in masks. Even the wait staff wear simple black and white masks as they smoothly weave in and out of the crowd to offer food and drinks to the guests. Even if they weren't wearing masks, I wouldn’t know who most of the people are–there are simply more guests than people I know, even taking into account everyone I have met at the Academy. I can see a table that spreads the length of one side of the room absolutely filled with wrapped gifts. I can’t imagine what can be inside–it isn’t like anyone knew me well enough to know what to buy me. I suppose they must be expensive things chosen to show off their wealth and grovel to my father rather than anything bought with love.

My father leads me to the top of the stairs, where a man in an ornate frock coat is waiting, trumpet in hand. As we approach, he raises the trumpet to his lips and blows a fanfare. At the sound, the room falls quiet.

“I had the fanfare written especially for you,” my father whispers to me, as the trumpeter clears his throat.

“Solomon Archaic presents his eighteen-year-old daughter, Ivy Archaic.”

I find myself questioning the point of the masks if my father is going to just tell everyone who I am, but there is no time to wonder about things like that, as the room erupts into a hail of applause. There are whistles and cheers and shouts of ‘happy birthday!’ as we descend the stairs to join the crowd.

Masked guests reach out to pat me on the back as we walk past them and towards the stage. My father is clearly in his element, as he walks through the crowd, taking me up to where there is an elevated platform with the band’s instruments waiting for them to play. He goes to the central microphone stand and taps the mic to see if it’s on.

“Ladies and gentlemen, those of House Archaic and our allies in Navarre, Dauphin, and Knight,” he begins. “Thank you all for coming to celebrate my beloved daughter Ivy’s coming of age. As I’m sure you all know, Ivy and I were separated until very recently. You have no idea how much it means to me to have my daughter back by my side to ensure the future prosperity of House Archaic. I would ask you to raise your glasses and join me in a toast to wish my daughter a very happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday, Ivy!” came the chorus, followed by more applause.

“And now I call upon Ivy to say a few words.”

He steps back and gestures to me to take his place at the mic.

I gulp.

“I haven’t prepared a speech!” I whisper, hating the thought of having to speak in front of all those people.

“Be a good girl and just say thank you.” My father smiles through gritted teeth. “Now.”

I step forward and adjusted the mic so I can speak into it.

“Er… I have to admit that this is all a little overwhelming,” I begin. “I wasn’t expecting to be celebrating my eighteenth birthday in such a grand manner. I’m used to quiet nights in with some birthday cake. So I’m very grateful to see you all. It means a lot to know you think so much of my father to be here for my birthday. Thank you all for coming and I hope you all have a great night.”

“That’s my girl,” says my father, his words almost inaudible over the cheers. He takes over the mic again.

“One final announcement,” he says. “We’ve been lucky enough to get an amazing band to play for us tonight. I would like you all to put your hands together and welcome to the stage; Lost in Oblivion!”

People don’t just clap–theyscream!I am too stunned to say anything as I see my favourite band walking towards me. Joey McIntyre, the lead singer, kisses me on the cheek.

“Happy birthday, Ivy,” he says. “Any special requests you’d like us to play?”

“Y-you’re so sweet?” I stammer, naming one of my favourite songs.

“Great choice!” Joey grins as he takes the mic from my father and we leave the stage. “Good evening, House Archaic! We are Lost in Oblivion and as a personal favour to the birthday girl, this isYou’re So Sweet!”

Leo Grayson, the lead guitarist, starts strumming, the bass joining in to power through a rock riff that has kept the song at the top of the charts for three weeks. The teenagers in the room surge forward to crowd round the stage as Joey starts singing. Out of the corner of my eye I see my father disappearing off with another man in a suit. I should have known he was going to talk business at my birthday party. I suppose I should be grateful that he has given me as much attention as he had.

But I won’t feel sorry for myself. Lost in Oblivion are playing at my freaking birthday party!

I dance, closing my eyes to drink in the music. Forget about being lost in oblivion–it is more like lost in the music, my body becoming one with every note.

I am under no illusion that this is my party. I know hardly anyone here, and this is more about my father making a statement than me having fun. Fortunately, as the bullied foster kid, I was used to going out by myself, so it doesn’t bother me that I am on my own while dancing. Milly is probably around somewhere, but with so many people desperate to get within touching distance of the band, I don’t blame her for not coming to say hello.

As one song finishes, another begins and another, each one bringing me to the verge of tears with how powerful they are. Lost in Oblivion are even better live than they are on their albums.

“Okay, we’re going to take things down a notch now,” announces Joey. “So if there’s someone you’ve had your eye on, now’s your chance to grab them and get up close and personal!”

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