Chapter Text
He was highly prized. The moment he set foot into the ballroom, all manner of conversation ceased. The music stopped and everyone turned their attention to him. He allowed a small smile to grace his lips and tipped his hat at the many guests of that gathering, all dressed to the nines. The host of the party greeted him, enthusiastically and told him how happy they were that he accepted their invitation. It was not a party without him, they said. He thanked them, graciously and allowed himself to be led onward. The men bowed and the ladies curtsied as he passed, his footsteps echoed as all eyes turned to him. His usual settee waited for him at the end of the room, by the tall glass windows. And when he sat on the red velvet cushions, so too did the music return and the conversations began anew.
Some groups of guests walked toward him and paid their respects. Right then, he was a king though he was far from it in truth. This world was all a fantasy.
And so was he.
"Who is that?" One of the newer guests asked his friend.
His friend, a red-haired man in a white suit, turned to look who he was referring to. And when he was nudged again, he realized who it was and grinned, all white teeth showing.
"Like what you see?" He asked.
The other man scowled and pushed his red bow-lined glasses with his fingers. "Hardly, Ascot." He remarked. "I asked because everyone seems to know him even with the mask on."
Ascot's grin didn't leave his face.
"That," He began. "is Ghishavel. The most highly sought-after escort in these parts."
"Escort?" He scoffed. "Then he's here to turn some tricks then?" Then under his breath. "I didn't think this was such an establishment..."
Ascot laughed at him, putting an arm heavily around his shoulders.
"Desmond, have some faith in me." He said. "This isn't that kind of place. Ghishavel is special. He's actually invited here. Whenever there's a gathering like this, if people heard he was going to be there, they'd show up. Just for the chance to have a chat with him."
Sycamore turned to the small group of people that gathered around the mysterious man. The man wore red, from his top hat to his suit. Black gloves adorned his hands and black leather shoes in his feet. The only other colour on his clothes was the white shirt and the half mask he wore. He seemed... Refined, poised. And Sycamore was starting to hate that. It reminded him of someone else although he would definitely throw a fit if that man ever did something like that.
"Where did he come from?"
Ascot shrugged. "No one knows." He replied. "One day he showed up and then somehow he's charmed several socialites and everyone of note." He threw his hand up. "Hells, he charmed one of Sir Belduke's sons and everyone knows they're stone cold." He stopped. "He doesn't always leave with someone though. And from what it looks like, he doesn't do this for the money. Though there's no shortage of admirers giving him lavish gifts."
Sycamore turned and saw the host of the party handing Ghishavel a velvet box that contained, possibly jewelry which the other smiled and tried to decline it seems but, the host was insistent and Ghishavel gave in, graciously accepted the gift. It made the host blush. From where they were it was hard to hear what they was talking about but seemed to be quite animated on the other guests' part.
Sycamore took a sip out of his wine. "Is he looking to marry into high society then?" He asked, intrigued. Status and power were appealing things if one was looking to climb the social ladder after all. "Or to become someone's kept man? I'm assuming he goes with both men and women."
Ascot shrugged. "I'm not certain." He replied. "Money and influence... They're all well and good but if that's the case, then why not make obtaining his services easier?"
Sycamore raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
Ascot scratched his head. "Look, it's not easy to get him to become your companion, even for just a night." He explained. "He has different standards."
Sycamore frowned, interest piqued. "How then?" When Ascot gave him a confused look, he huffed. "How does he choose his lover for the night then?"
Ascot grinned, white teeth showed that reminded Sycamore of a shark for a moment.
"Through puzzles." He replied, cheerfully. "If you can answer him correctly, he'll be yours for the night. Whether you want his company as just a friend to keep you from being bored or want to make a splash at the party or as a lover." He paused and took a drink from his glass. "People say he's quite skilled." he added.
There was a bit of blush at the words and Sycamore grinned slyly and leaned closer to peer at his friend.
"And you know this... How?" He asked. "Is there something you're not telling me, Randall Ascot?"
Ascot sputtered and almost choked on his wine. The other man didn't offer any help though and just chuckled at the younger man's antics, shaking his head.
"Will wonders ever cease?" He said to no one in particular. "And here I was thinking you were pretty straight."
Ascot's face turned a tad bit redder at the comment and threw a fist at him but the other man dodged it, easily, laughing while Randall tried to deny it. There was perhaps some surprise. He knew Randall was engaged to Angela and he'd always thought that he wouldn't look at anyone else since they were so in love. So in love in fact, that the whole university thought it was a bit sickening sometimes how sweet they were to each other.
"Heaven help me, Desmond Sycamore. If you don't stop, I will seriously injure your sorry hide."
Sycamore click his tongue and wagged a finger at him. "Such violence." He teased. "Unbecoming of a gentleman."
The redhead folded his arms on his chest. "Hershel's the gentleman, not me." He retorted. "I'd beat you in fencing any day!"
The other man shook his head. "Truly? You have yet to win." He mocked.
"Arg!! It's not like that, alright?" He began, exasperated. "I did win his services. But I never slept with him!!" He hastily added before the teasing began anew. "It was an accident really."
He was not convinced.
"I... answered his puzzle without knowing what it would bring about. And when everyone told me what I did, I was, of course, surprised. Angela looked like she was going to kill me but Ghishavel was gracious enough to tell us that he could just accompany us. Angela was suspicious but warmed up to him after a while." He shrugged.
When he saw the look that Sycamore was gave him, he scowled at his friend.
"He's surprisingly intelligent. Very charming too. I can see why people flocked to him the way they do. He's... a novelty and I must admit, quite refreshing among the babble and gossip that's usually here in these kinds of gatherings. Not to mention, his puzzles can be quite tricky sometimes."
Sycamore raised an eyebrow. "And why did you bring me here?"
Ascot looked at him as if that reason should have been obvious. "You said you've been bored. I thought this would amuse you."
Sycamore's frown returned. While he appreciated what Ascot was trying to do, he didn't like where this was going and told him so. But Ascot in his usual carefree way merely laughed at his face.
"Hey, I wasn't the one complaining about how boring it was to be back from a dig. Not to mention you've been making eyes at Hershel-" Here Sycamore almost chocked on his drink. "-and I thought maybe I can distract you from your pining with this. Maybe if you practice flirting with Ghishavel, you can finally snag Hershel."
Sycamore wanted to hit him. But Ascot continued.
"Plus, I wanted to see how he'd measure up against you." Ascot confessed. "I want to see how good he is. I know you're good. You're as good a puzzle master as Hershel is." And quietly muttered. "Even though back in our school days he absolutely had no interest in puzzles and archaeology..." Ascot shrugged smiling fondly. "Now he's one of the greats!"
Sycamore scowled again. "So you want me to solve one of his puzzles and win him, is that correct?" When Ascot nodded, Sycamore sighed, tiredly. Once Ascot had an idea in his head he won't stop until you give in. "I'm not too sure I like this..."
Ascot grinned and patted his shoulder. "Come on. I'll introduce you." He paused. "Besides, if you manage, maybe you'll have enough courage to finally ask my best friend out!"
Sycamore shook his head.
Courage was not the problem.
He didn't have any choice on the matter.
Ascot dragged him toward where Ghishavel sat. There was certain sort of irony at the name the escort chose. 'Secret Treasure' in the Azran language. He scoffed, he suspected the man probably picked up a random archaeology book, pointed and took whatever word that sounded nice. He didn't know whether to be irritated or not. It was arrogance after all. and Sycamore felt a growing displeasure at the whole thing. He decided that he'll probably not like him.
As soon as Ghishavel saw them, he beckoned them closer. The group surrounding them parted to let them through. Sycamore's eyes grew wider at the sight. He was more impressive up close. Sitting upon the red velvet cushions was a man that for a moment reminded him of someone else. But he knew the man he remembered would not sit in the middle of a party the same way as this man did.
Ghishavel stood when they approached, an easy smile on his lips that was almost coy. Despite, the half face mask, Sycamore knew that there was something... off about the man. Impressive, but he could not help but feel some sort of unease. He schooled his face to a more neutral expression though that small quirk on the masked man's lips hinted that he had seen.
"Master Ascot. It's good to see you again." Ghishavel greeted, tilted his hat. "After last time, I thought I've frightened you away."
Ascot laughed awkwardly. "Nope. I think I managed pretty well." He replied.
There was a funny story there, Sycamore just knew. But he might have to ask Angela for the details later.
"Of course." Ghishavel conceded. "How have you been? Quite well I hope?"
"Quite." Ascot replied easily. "May I introduce my friend-"
"Jean Descole at your service." Sycamore interrupted with a roguish smile.
Ascot blinked but other than that did not attempt to correct the name. For Sycamore, it was the first name that popped into his head. A name from one of the novels that he had read as a child. Ghishavel offered a hand to shake. Sycamore stepped forward, took Ghishavel's offered hand and kissed it. A blush dusted Ghishavel's cheeks that surprised everyone. Sycamore even more so. He had never met someone of that profession still able to blush at something so simple as a kiss at the back of his hand.
Hmm... No wonder he is prized. He thought. It was quite rare, indeed.
"Ghishavel at yours." The other replied. "Welcome, Master Descole."
Sycamore straightened up but did not let go of the other man's hand yet. He felt the warmth despite the gloves he wore.
"Please, just Descole. I get enough of that at home."
There was a pause and for some reason that made Ghishavel laugh. It was a lovely laugh, full of delight that made Ghishavel's face flush even redder that did not have anything to do with wine. The other guests turned to Sycamore with something akin to wonder. Ascot himself was even more surprised. From how it looked Ghishavel did not laugh like that so often.
If he pulled moves like that on 'him'. Ascot thought, smirking. Maybe he'd actually get somewhere.
"Jean Descole, you seem to be a man full of surprises." Ghishavel remarked, shaking his head. "Well now, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" He sat back down offering a seat to Ascot and Sycamore.
Sycamore sat on the settee in the other end where Ghishavel did. It was unheard of from how the other guests around them murmured behind hands and fans, disapprovingly. To them it might be an insult. He ignored it, of course, perfectly at ease. Besides, Ghishavel did not seem to mind so why should he. He took a glass of wine from a passing waiter and peered at Ghishavel from the glass he held. The other man crossed his legs, casually and seemed to watch him. Though he wasn't sure what sort of look the man in red had.
As for the question, perhaps he should tell the truth. Or a slightly modified version of it.
"I shall confess." Sycamore began. "I was bored. My friend Ascot here said if I wanted amusement I should come here and here I am."
Ghishavel leaned back, an arm on the armrest, absently drawing circles on the velveteen covers. "And what, pray tell, kind of amusement are you searching for?"
Sycamore grinned, white teeth showing. "Anything and everything you can provide, of course."
"I see..." Ghishavel smiled that fox-like grin. "You are a very interesting fellow, Jean Descole." He remarked.
"In a good way, one hopes."
"In a very, very good way." Ghishavel agreed, nodding his head.
The smile had not left the man's lips. Sycamore could feel the heat in that man's gaze despite the mask that covered his face. He was once again reminded of the gentleman that had caught his attention at Gressenheller. But that man would never sit so close or smile in such a flirtatious way. Ghishavel was more alive, more forward. And Sycamore was not sure if he liked it or not.
Interesting... He thought. He expected to find rubbish, but found treasure instead. Did he know his worth then?
Ghishavel leaned close to him. Close enough that Sycamore could smell that man's perfume. Perhaps it was the wine but he thought it was absolutely intoxicating. He wanted to kiss that man and when he told him so, Ghishavel smiled but placed a finger on his lips instead. Sycamore nipped it, playfully once and withdrew.
"There are rules in this game, Master Descole." He said cheerfully and sat back properly. "Are you prepared to play this game?
"Will I like this game?"
"Perhaps."
"Then tell me."
Ghishavel nodded.
"Within this building, is a fantasy world." He began. "I will be anything and everything you so desire. Brother, husband, friend or lover. Whichever it is you choose me to be." He explained with a smile.
Sycamore took another sip from his wine.
"Master Ascot has probably told you that I choose who I accompany by puzzles. First rule: if you solve it, I will be yours for the night. I will treat you as you wish to be treated, like a king if you desire, or a pet if that is what you crave. Your wish is my command."
Sycamore did not want to be treated like a pet. That wasn't his kink.
"Second rule, you must never try to remove my mask. If you even attempt to," There his lips turned an upside down smile. "I shall declare our contract null and void and leave. I am a very private person, I would rather no one know my true face."
Sycamore frowned. "You have me at a disadvantage then." He commented. "You know my face and name. What guarantee do I have that you would not look for me outside and try to ruin me?"
Ghishavel smiled. "Very good, Master Descole." He said. "You are no fool."
"I do not suffer fools." He stated.
"Have no fear." Ghishavel replied, soothingly. No doubt it was a question that had been asked before. "I will not look for you outside and if we happen to meet, I would not give away our..." He paused a moment and considered. "relationship." He sighed when Sycamore did not look convinced. "I do not betray my clients simply because it's bad for business." He dusted imaginary dirt off his red sleeve. "As long as you mean me or others no harm then we are in accord. If I or anyone else is harmed by you, then we all have a duty to report to the Yard after all."
That remark gathered tittering laughs from the surrounding people.
Then slyly. "Besides, you gave me a false name. How will I know how to address you outside in the first place?"
That earned an eyebrow raise from Sycamore and a frown from Ascot. Ghishavel waved a dismissive hand.
"Your friend flinched when you introduced yourself." He explained, as if it was very obvious.
Sycamore smiled. The man had sharp eyes.
"Touché."
Ghishavel tipped his hat. "I aim to please."
"Do you always make it a point to observe people around you?" Sycamore asked, swirling the wine in his glass. Red, just like Ghishavel's clothes.
Ghishavel gave him a lopsided grin. "Just the interesting ones."
"Then you find us interesting." It was not a question.
"You, more so." The other replied.
"Should I be flattered?" He smirked.
Ghishavel tilted his head back, showing a small patch of pale neck and Sycamore found quite fascinating as there was barely any skin to be seen.
"Are you?" he asked back.
It was Sycamore's turn to laugh.
"No wonder Ascot said I would not be bored." he remarked he leaned back against the armrest, resting his chin on his fist. "And the last rule?"
"This is a fantasy world and I am just one of its denizens. I will love you as you wished to be loved but as with all fantasies, they all die at dawn. I will always leave your side then so you must remember... Never to fall in love with me. And I cannot fall in love with you."
He raised his eyebrows at that. "So confident are you at your skills at seduction that you think I will fall in love with you after just a night?"
Ghishavel bowed his head and smiled, wryly. "Stranger things have happened before. It is just a precaution." he said.
Sycamore thought for a moment and then nodded. "Of course." he agreed. Then, "And what of the price for your services?"
It was probably tactless on his part to ask such a thing while there were others there. It made everyone else uncomfortable. Usually businesses like these were conducted in privacy. While Sycamore didn't want to sound uncouth, nevertheless he wanted to see what the man's reaction would be.
The response, however, was not what he expected. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light, but the smile on Ghishavel's lips slipped for a moment and if the mask were not there, Sycamore could've sworn it looked sad, like it pained him to hear it. But Ghishavel recovered fast. The smile returned but was slightly forced.
"Answer my puzzle first and then we may talk." He reminded him gently.
"Of course." Sycamore conceded.
Ascot regarded at the two men, grinning. He knew that look on Sycamore's face. He'd seen that look on Hershel's face before and his own, perhaps. He wasn't going to interfere. He wasn't so sure about the other spectators though. They were starting to gather about the two men, perhaps to watch or perhaps to try their hand on whatever puzzle Ghishavel had prepared.
Ghishavel examined his glass for a moment in deep thought. Then placed it on the table with a quiet tap. From his pocket he produced a small pouch and emptied it on the table before them. There were six, little wooden puzzle pieces, finely crafted and smooth. Sycamore smiled.
"I'm assuming this forms a cube." He stated, examining the pieces.
"You assumed correctly." Ghishavel replied. "I've had that for a week now. So far no one has been able to fix it. There's always that one corner that's empty. So for two nights, I've had no companions." He tapped a finger on his chin, lips turned upside-down in annoyance. "It's truly vexing."
Sycamore laughed as his fingers worked on it, sliding two piece against each other. "Surely, you can do without a lover for a night?" He remarked.
"True." He agreed. "But where's the fun in that? We all come here for different reasons but mostly to enjoy ourselves."
Sycamore smirked. "Does that mean you're doing this because you're bored as well? Or just randy?"
Four pieces fitted together and he reached out for another one, absentmindedly. Once again, distracted by the glimpse of a pale swatch of skin, this time, the man's wrists. To his teasing inquiry, Ghishavel did not answer. Instead he took a drink from his wine, emptied it in one go and handed it to a waiting server beside him.
"Who knows these things?" He answered with a shrug.
Sycamore gave him an annoyed look then slid the last piece on, forming a perfect cube. He took the other man's hand and placed the now finished puzzle in his gloved palm. It was not a difficult puzzle though he supposed other people might have a hard time about it. He watched Ghishavel inspect it while some spectators sighed in disappointment. No doubt they wanted to solve it and have him for the night. The others clapped.
"There now." He declared. "Is this answer satisfactory?"
Ghishavel touched the puzzle cube, sliding gloved fingers over the now smooth surface. There were no missing corners like the past two nights have. Ghishavel threw the puzzle cube back which he caught easily.
"Yes. It is. Quite." He replied, smiling.
Sycamore grinned. "Puzzles are a tonic for the mind." He remarked.
Ghishavel grinned back. "Indeed."
He stood and for a moment Sycamore thought he was going to leave. But Ghishavel faced him and gave him a bow. The other spectators by now have dispersed. No doubt to give them privacy to talk terms. It was not polite to listen, he figured. They would return again later.
"As in accordance to the rules, I am now yours, Master Jean Descole." He declared and straightened up. "Is there a particular way you wish me to act?"
The question caught Sycamore off-guard. The words were not out of place, though. Sycamore shook his head, he didn't want to be reminded that he was only paying for the other man's services.
"I find you more... intriguing as you are now." He replied. "Surely many would prefer you this way. This real you?"
The smile slipped again. This time, Ascot also noticed it but only gave a sideways glance at Sycamore which he understood.
"I... suppose so." Ghishavel agreed, hesitantly. "I am as real as you wish me to be." He replied.
The other man hummed at the comment. Ghishavel was playing a game, acting out a role. He seemed to be sincere. At least, that was what it felt like. Sycamore was not sure he liked that. But he was going to continue this little game they played to enjoy himself. And some part of him thought this was probably the closest he could get to the man he adored. Even if the said man he was having such conversations wasn't the person he truly wanted but a replacement.
Grim thoughts must stop. He told himself. Ghishavel looked at him curiously, head tilted a bit to the side with his arms folded on his chest in such a familiar pose. For a moment he thought Ghishavel knew how to read minds to see his innermost desire.
Instead of saying anything, Sycamore smirked and beckoned him with a crooked finger. Ghishavel shook his head, chuckling to himself as he walked back toward him. Within reach, Sycamore slid an arm, appreciatively around Ghishavel's waist. The man he held continued to smile, perhaps fondly at him. His own hands reached, gently out to run black-gloved fingers through Sycamore's soft hair.
"Well?" Ghishavel whispered.
Sycamore didn't answer, instead pulled him down to sit by his side. The motion knocked his hat off. The mask though remained securely on his face, fastened with dark lace around his head. Ghishavel hummed in contentment, letting his head rest on Sycamore's shoulder.
"Tell me something, Ghishavel." Sycamore began. "You're an intelligent man. Surely you can find work other than this. Why don't you find something more..." He paused, gesturing with his free hand. "stable?
Ghishavel chuckled. "That wasn't the word you meant to say."
Sycamore grunted. "I was trying to be subtle."
Ghishavel shook his head, amused. "What makes you think I don't have other more..." He grinned, mischievously. "stable work than this?" He asked back. "For all you know I could be a politician" that earned him an eyebrow raise. "Or an archaeologist."
It was Sycamore's turn to shake his head in amusement.
"Are you implying that you're doing this because you're bored?"
Ghishavel tapped a finger on his chin, smiling.
"Who knows these things?" He remarked again.
Sycamore laughed amused. Ghishavel, after a while, laughed with him. It was a cheerful, happy laugh that brought back that lovely flush on his cheeks. Ascot watched at them both with some wonder and dread not quite knowing the real reason behind the unease. Their laughter attracted the attention of the other guests who began to walk toward them to have a chat. Ascot observed them all from his chair with a smile. Ghishavel seemed odd, somehow. Or maybe, familiar. He wasn't quite sure. And from the way Sycamore looked, even he felt it.
But they couldn't quite put their fingers into it.
There was a puzzle here that niggled at the back of their minds. Persistently, it avoided their understanding. Ghishavel was a puzzle that must be solved. But perhaps it was not for him but for the other man whose shoulder there rested Ghishavel's head. Ascot shrugged in his mind and decided then that he would not interfere anymore. It might work out for the best.
Or worse.
Observation was the key. Without a doubt after this, Sycamore was going to attend more functions such as these if Ghishavel was there. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing though.
"Now then Ghishavel," one of the guests, a lady in a fluffy pink dress began. "You really must tell us, who it is beneath that mask."
"Does it not add to his allure that we don't know?" Sycamore asked.
"Ah, but you are a man who enjoys mysteries." Another guest, an older gentleman remarked. "But what of us poor normal people?" He asked. "You must certainly feel some sort of sympathy for us?"
Sycamore smirked. "None whatsoever." He replied.
The people surrounding them laughed.
"You're not even a least bit curious?!" A younger man pressed. "How can you love a person whose face you cannot see?"
"Love?"
Sycamore schooled his face to keep from scowling. He didn't know what it was in the question that irked him so. Perhaps it was the reminder that this was all not real. He glanced at Ghishavel by his side but nothing seemed out of place.
Then to Ghishavel, the man turned. "What about you, Ghishavel? Have you ever fallen in love?"
He did not look fazed at the question though he rested his chin on his fist. Everyone was genuinely curious and from how it looked, he was used to these sorts of questions aimed at him, relaxed as he was.
"Twice." He replied. "Twice I fell in love."
There was a general cry of "Oooooh!" at the reply. Excitedly, the others surged forward to hear more. Sycamore leaned forward to listen, curious as well.
"Once to a lady whom I was engaged to." Ghishavel said he said fondly.
"What happened to her?"
Ghishavel turned away. "She was killed in an accident." He replied.
"I'm so sorry to hear that." Sycamore said, sincerely. He hadn't expect that.
Ghishavel shook his head. "It has been a few years since." He confessed. "It hurts less now."
"And of the second time?" Another guest asked.
Ghishavel grinned, mischievously and leaned against Sycamore, linked his arm to his. The sudden movement almost upset the small table.
"To this man." He replied, cheekily. "As soon as he walked through the door, I knew I would love him."
Sycamore shook his head in disbelief. To think he believed his story about the lady!
"We came in before you. You couldn't have seen me." Scowling, "I don't like it when I'm made fun of." Sycamore remarked, crossly.
Ghishavel smiled that secret smile, pushed him away playfully, stood up and placed a hand over his heart, dramatically. "You see how he spurns my affections? I am hurt." He said mock sadly. "I try to get his attention and yet he ignores me."
Sycamore placed his palm on his face, shaking his head.
"You are terrible." He commented with fondness.
The other man turned to him. "Am I very?"
It was a rhetorical question. A loaded inquiry. At least it sounded that way. Sycamore wondered though, what it was truly about. Because it seemed to be about something else entirely. He opened his mouth to answer but suddenly the sound of the large grandfather clock rang loudly across the halls. It rang four times signaling the time. Ghishavel looked up as everyone did. And when it passed, all the revelers sighed in disappointment.
The party was over.
He took out a gold pocket watch, flipped the lid open and saw the time. He sighed as he bent over to pick up his forgotten hat and then turned to Sycamore who looked up at him with some regret.
Where had time gone?
"It's time to wake up then?" Sycamore asked.
"Yes." Ghishavel said quietly as he examined his hat.
Sycamore stood up to watch the man. All around them people moved to ready for their departure, chatting animatedly about the events of that night. Revelers moving to get their coats and bags, waiters and waitresses, helped with ushering the guests to their respective cars while the rest started the clean up. The host of the party (whom Sycamore did not know but Randall did) thanked all of them and said his goodbyes.
Against that busy background, Ghishavel was a very lonely figure. Sycamore thought how sad it was.
The silence of the two men was not appealing so taking his cue, Ascot stood up. It got Sycamore's attention.
"So how much did you agree on?" He asked suddenly.
Before Sycamore could say anything or berate Ascot for his lack of tact, Ghishavel strode toward him and without warning, pulled him by his red necktie and kissed him. Sycamore had not expected that though he wanted to earlier that evening. At first he was too dumbfounded to respond but when Ghishavel was about to pull away, Sycamore grasped his face to deepen the kiss.
When they broke apart, Ghishavel stepped back with a small smile on his lips.
"I think that's enough compensation for now." He remarked, cheerfully.
He bowed with a flourish and put his hat on as he straightened up. Without further ado, he turned and strode away. The heels of his shoes, echoed. Ascot and Sycamore remained where they were, dumbfounded.
When Sycamore looked down, he realized that Ghishavel had dropped his mask.
He stumbled through the door, feeling slightly lightheaded. He might just be a tad bit tipsy but it was nothing a couple of glasses of water and a bath wouldn't fix. It was still early but he needed to be ready in an hour to make it in time. He had to attend a faculty meeting that morning and give a lecture right after that. Lacking sleep was not good but it was not something he hadn't done before.
He hung his red coat and hat but dropped his pocket watch, muttering a small curse under his breath.
The noise he made seemed to have alerted someone and the door to one of the rooms opened. A young lady stepped out and looked sleepily at him with a small smile on her face.
"Oh! Good morning, Flora." He greeted smiling. "My apologies. Did I wake you, my girl?"
The girl, Flora, shook her head, smiling as she walked over to him to give him a small kiss on his cheek.
"Did you have a nice night out, Professor?" She asked.
Professor Hershel Layton smiled at her, touching his lips that still tingled from what he had done before he left.
"Yes." He replied. "It was a very good night."
END OF PART ONE