The next morning, I allow myself to sleep in until lunch, and I can barely move from my bed. Persephone brings a tray of finger sandwiches and fruit to my room, along with a mysterious package.
“What is it?” I ask, glancing at the small box curiously. It’s wrapped in black paper with a gold ribbon tied around it.
“I’m not sure,” she shrugs. “It’s from His Majesty.”
I slowly open the box, leaving my food forgotten on the tray; my curiosity is much greater than my hunger.
Inside, I find a black, filigree mask placed delicately inside, surrounded by white tissue paper. Lifting it carefully from the box, my fingertips trace the intricate design of the mask.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper. But what’s it for?
My eyes land on a gold envelope at the bottom of the package. I set the mask do
