He needed a hit. Lau had to stop himself drumming his fingers against the coach door for the umpteenth time. Yeesh, it had been...two weeks? Too long by far, somewhere out there was an empty bed in an opium den that cried out his name but instead here he was attending some ‘masquerade’, which had sinfully boring written all over it. Anything to take his mind off things, Lau began drumming his fingers again.

The relief he felt when the coach finally rolled to a halt in front of the gates was almost palpable. One of his attendants leapt down acrobatically in colourful attire and made a great show of opening the door then bowing almost to the floor. Lau Feng sauntered out garbed in deep crimson coloured robes with gold inlay, his hair tied back in a ponytail that fell almost to his waist and he wore a scowl on his face which managed to mix both impetuousness and boredom. 

Flashing his invitation to the androgynous doorman Lau slipped on his mask, an ornate dragon design, and watched as his coach rolled away. If nothing else it would be nice to have an evening away from his father’s ‘baby-sitters’.  

Early? Was the though that struck Lau as he entered the extravagant if rather empty ballroom. He shrugged it off and made a beeline for the food and drink swiftly munching down a couple of prawns. After satisfying his hunger he then set to satisfying his curiosity. 

“What you know about Lord Fowle?” Lau asked quite abruptly, his heavy accent showing as he wiped his hands on a napkin and turned to a man near him wearing a highway mask and ill-fitting clothes.