style="font-size:15px;"> Both pages were delicate and fragile, like two wax candles. The loose sleeves of their suits dangled like torn sails. The strange green caps gave the boys an inhuman appearance. Mischievous eyes betrayed a bully, but at the same time the shifted, bushy eyebrows on the children’s faces spoke of the evil disposition of these guys.
Rose ignored their warning and wanted to step further, but the second page, with the speed of lightning, found himself a step higher than the girl and blocked the narrow passage.
“You can’t go there,” he croaked. His voice sounded even more disgusting than the first.
“Why?” asked Rosa, straightening up to her full height and showing by her appearance that here she is the mistress, and not some dwarfs.
Two kids in green caps immediately realized their mistake and forgot about the impudent tone.
“They have been waiting for you at the ball for a long time,” the first page sang in a sugary, honeyed voice.
His companion unceremoniously grabbed Rosa by the arm and pulled her away from the stairs. The princess barely had time to turn around to look at the mysterious door, kept like a forbidden passage to another world, before the quick pages carried her into another corridor, away from the temptation to reveal other people’s secrets. Rosa never ceased to be amazed at the insolence of these disgusting mischief-makers. How are they just kept in the service? Mara should be reprimanded
“Leave me alone!” Rose shouted at them as soon as the ballroom doors appeared ahead. She snatched her hand out of the firm, but far from friendly, grip and walked swiftly forward along the carpet. Her steps echoed in the confined space of the corridor. The lamps on the walls alternately went out, warning the approach of the girl. The candles in the candelabra were extinguished, and the beauty in the golden dress illuminated the approaching darkness by itself. Rose’s emerald eyes took on a feline shine in the shadows. Classic eyebrow arches curved over them. The shoulders of the princess were striking with whiteness and grace. The hair flowed in a dark waterfall from under the enamel hoop. Relentless rock hovered over a beautiful head. If a magician was here, he would have seen a slender, radiant lady hurrying to the ball, and the angel of death flies behind her, rustling with black wings.
A chamberlain stood at the sash doors with a list of guests. He smiled ingratiatingly. Flattery showed in his speeches.
Rose turned around and saw two little pages at the other end of the corridor. They boldly met her gaze and quietly, maliciously laughed.
The tall grandfather clock by the window showed a quarter to twelve. The chamberlain crossed out one of the names on the list, and the doors to the hall immediately swung open by themselves.
“It wasn’t without magic,” thought Rose. She spread the bucked sleeves of her dress and stepped over the threshold. The doors immediately closed behind her, like a prepared trap.
However, the ballroom was not much like a trap. Its high vaulted ceilings looked up into the sky. Stained glass was inserted into the bizarre windows. The light was crushed in crystal chandeliers. Music was playing. Dressed up couples flirted. The high society was entertained by jugglers and acrobats. At the edges of the hall were festive tables with food and wine.
Only the overwhelming size of the hall and the crooked reflections in the wall mirrors made an unpleasant impression on Rosa.
As soon as she entered, the musicians stopped playing. An ominous silence hung over the hall. Ladies and gentlemen now looked like suddenly put to sleep. Everyone froze in their former position and did not dare to move. For a moment, Rose thought she was standing among a forest of wax figures. Then a single admiring sigh broke the deathly silence that reigned in the hall, and all the ladies present sat down in a low curtsy to Rose. After them the gentlemen bowed.
Each of the guests tried to portray the highest courtesy, but no one dared to approach the princess. All their bows and curtsies resembled a well-rehearsed performance.
As the dance began, the guests’ colorful robes swirled like a whirlwind of autumn leaves. Rose walked around the hall, holding her gaze for a long time at women’s hairstyles and outfits. She has not seen such a variety of fashions and colors anywhere else. There were no knights or guards here, but dandies in tunics trimmed with colored piping feasted. Jewels glittered on the foreheads of young maidens. The older ladies had elaborate nets covering their hair. The crooked mirrors revealed fake smiles. Their distorted reflection illuminated the soul.
Suddenly, in the distance, a dull and clear beat of a clock was heard. An invisible pendulum whistled in time with them. Terrible, monotonous sounds seemed to come from everywhere: from every wall, from the floor and even from the ceiling, so that it was impossible to determine exactly where the clock itself was.
The fun stopped instantly. The guests backed away to the edges of the room, and only Rose stood in the very center, listening to every beat of midnight.
For the tenth, eleventh beat, and finally the last one sounded. It was like thunder. Echoing it, the walls hummed, the stained-glass windows rattled, the ceiling cracked. It seemed to Rose that the masonry was about to fall right on her head. She had to run, but a mysterious force bound her whole body, not allowing even to move.
The crowd of guests surrounded Rose in a ring. There was another crack in the ceiling. And suddenly, behind Rose, something hit the floor. A bass grunt, occasionally interrupted by a chest cough, filled the silence.
Rose felt that she could move again. She looked up and saw that there was a hole in the very middle of the ceiling. And behind someone’s back, someone continued to sniff and quack like an animal.
The princess scanned the crowd with pleading eyes. The guests’ faces were frozen in impenetrable expressions. Rose was afraid to turn around, afraid to see the one who was fumbling behind her. And suddenly gnarled fingers gripped the wrist of her hand. An eerie face with beady eyes and an aquiline nose peeped over Rose’s shoulder.
The huge, crooked mouth contorted into a grin. Rose tucked her skirts up with her free hand and wanted to dash away, but the black bird claws dug into her wrist so that she screamed. The circle of guests closed even closer around them. There was no exit.
Rose freed her hand and pulled back a little. Next to her stood a hunchback in a black cloak. He could barely reach the shoulder of an ordinary person, but in his dumpy, dense physique, remarkable strength was felt. The back was crowned with a lumpy, pointed hump. Long arms almost reached the knees. The vicious, ugly face broke into a grin every minute. A toothed crown with a ruby was pulled over his forehead.
“Here, I caught you, killer whale!” almost happily he bit back, but his eyes remained so ferocious that Rose involuntarily backed away.
The hunchback grabbed her wrist again, not allowing her to take another step.
“What do you want from me?” Rose almost cried.
“Don’t you yourself know?” laughing and coughing, he asked a counter question. “Forgot about the signed contract? The deadline has expired, I’m taking you with me.”
There was nowhere to wait for help. Rose was at the mercy of a vile monster, and the crowd looked at them indifferently. The air from the floor to the gap in the ceiling was now surrounded by an icy shimmer. Shiny molecules moved, joined, curved in lines. And so they outlined the transparent steps of a spiral
