The Devil laughed at her barb, delighted with her wit. “Roses grown in mud and fertilizer? It may well be, though the gardner would have to have a mind towards dirt for it to be so. I did not know you were so fond of gardening!”

Even as they walked out upon the balcony his eyes were upon her form as it was christened by the moonlight, and he took perverse delight in watching her breast rise and fall as the Swan Queen inhaled the nighttime jasmine. Out here upon the raised porch with only the moonlight for their sight and the sounds of the masque muffled and dimmed, it almost seemed a magical place to be. He did not lean himself but stood straight and attentive as though waiting upon her. At her gesture towards his outfit, he could only chuckle. 

“I play my part, and my part is to know when to cause a scene, your Majesty,” he quipped. “It is my stock and trade to know when I could, when I should, and when I must. After all, what good is Cuckoo’s Eve without a Cuckoo?” For all his flippant tone as he asked the rhetorical question, there was something sad in his words. It was as though he greatly missed something, something that felt all others had forgotten and even scarce remembered himself some nights. Looking up towards the moon, he sighed as he stepped up to the rail besides her and placed both hand lightly upon it.. “There were times past when all across the lands people opened their doors to the Cuckoo when he came masquing, and feasted him so as to give The Devil his due. Children would run from door to door, all costumed and jeering and shouting… A thousands knights and witches and goblins and heroes and monsters and hogs and scarecrows and all the like… Households and farms would hand out the last leavings of their winter stores to them, saving just enough for what was needed until harvest and leaving their larders and pantries clear for the first early grains.”

A wistful catch in his musical voice painted the picture upon the mind, his recollections of his forefathers’ times as clear as any vision as he spoke with them. “Before there were kings and queens and dukes, and when each village was its own nation ruled by thane and served by thrall? Cuckoo’s Eve was the night when lovers made off into the woods and underbrush, and those babes come nine months later were blessed as ‘merry-begot.’ And if their names were not their father’s, there was no harm in it. They were loved as any child should have been loved, despite their lavender eyes.”

The Devil’s gee dropped to the darkness of the gardens below, the unseen flowers letting their perfumes fill the air to banish all cares. Glancing at the Swam Queen sidelong, he chuckled. “Forgive me, your Majesty. This should not be a night for maudlin reminisces!” Pushing off the balcony to stand upright again, he looked towards the frolic and fun within the halls. A dance had begun, and he was sure he could see The Sparrow Maiden whirling at the center of it.

“Are you worried for the little Sparrow, your Majesty? She is getting her heart’s wish, you know. Always wanting the freedoms of nobles, always secretly coveting their days at embroidery and their nights at dancing as she drudged-drudged-druged for her masters’ bellies in abuse and service. Her master may be a just man, but his retainers are not always so to those beneath them. Always the good girl, though, always obedient and kind to others, asking nothing while guarding her own unwanted virtue. Tonight she plays the wanton she desires to be, her heart unlocked tonight just as it was once for maids and bucks long ago on such eves. Tomorrow? Who can tell? Maybe she’ll curse our meeting with hate and tears?”

There followed a whisper beneath his mask, ever so slight so as to deceive the ear. “Or maybe,” he breathed forlornly, “she will believe.”

With a sudden flourish, he bowed low to the Swan Queen in apologies. “Forgive me, your Majesty!” he begged graciously and in a fashion that would make the most courteous of courtiers envious. “Perhaps the wine has gone to my head to ignore your beauty over my own fancies. But come! You asked for this introduction, did you not? My little Sparrow would not have brought you hence otherwise. So what is it you wish of me? In this night, you and I are equals, a King and Queen each in our own right, and I would not well refuse you any request!”

“After all,” he added roguishly with a wink, “from now til next moonrise, there’s nothing I would hold against you save that you ask it of me.”