Chapter 1
Banquet Pseudonyms

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My saviour clicked his tongue. I knew what that sound implied. We'd been caught.

"I don't know who let this sweet little bird into the mansion, but from what I can deduce... You're helping her escape." The mysterious guy spoke, his chocolate brown eyes shining in utter mystery.

"Now, why would you go and do that...? I rather fancy her type, you know she looks absolutely scrumptious."

He'd blocked off our exit in the smoothest of fashions. And his eyes fastened on me with obvious fascination.

Scrumptious, am I? He's british, isn't he? Although he's got a bit of a brogue.

"Ah, maybe you fancy me too, judging by the way you're looking me over." He smirked before darting his tongue out and licking his bottom lip sensually.

He's also a rotten flirt!

He ran his tongue over his lips in a very purposeful gesture.

"...it had to be you." My saviour interposed himself between me and the colorful flirt in a fancy suit.

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Somewhere in the Mansion

The gentleman from paris settled into a chair in his private suite. He gazed into the candle lantern as if it were but a window.

"A moment, Xuan." The emerald green eyed man spoke.

"Yes. Monsieur?" The butler, Ah Xuan finished setting tea for the gentleman and stood attentively.

"We have an unexpected guest. I want  to be sure she receives our best hospitality." The green eyed gentleman added three cubes of suger in his cup of hot tea and started stirring, "see there is a place set for her at the banquet."

"As you wish." Ah Xuan nodded obediently.

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"Why do you want to help her escape? Let's bring her to the banquet." The mysterious flirt spoke.

"That's not up to me or you." My savior snapped.

"Don't be so stodgy! Who's going to complain if we add a little color to the drab table." He checked me out with a lazy smirk dancing on his lips.

They're having a banquet? And he called this place a mansion? What mansion is connected to the Louvre?

I had more questions and zero answers.

"Messieurs."

A man dressed in a butler's garb entered the hallway.

"It's time for supper. They're gathering in the dining room now, if you please."

"You too, Mademoiselle." When I didn't move, he fixed his eyes on me.

"Me?" I asked pointing at myself to make sure if he really was talking to me. I looked at my surroundings there was no other female present in the hallway.

I don't belong here!

"I'm not planning on staying for supper."

"But the lord of the manor is awaiting you." The butler stated as calmly as possible, keeping his composure and a blank expression on his face.

The lord of the manor? This is really someone's house?

"How does he know I'm here?" I asked in utter confusion, my eyebrows almost touching each other as I frowned.

"You can ask him yourself at supper." The butler refused to give me any answer.

I'm getting no answers until then?

"Or will you refuse his invitation after rudely invading in his house?" My eyes widened at his words.

"But I didn't-"

I wanted to tell him it was an accident. Yet, I knew that was just an excuse. I'd apparently trespassed into some noble lord's property. Nothing else made sense, the butler's reasoning did.

The lord of this manor can tell me how to get back to the Louvre. The best thing to do is to be polite until then.

The butler sensed my acquiesce.

"Allow me to escort you." The butler offered.

I followed the butler closely, mentally mapping the route we took, just in case. The other two men followed behind.

I can't just run about the place trying doors. That's what got me here.

I contemplated my guide. He wore a crisp uniform with spotless white gloves.

He's fastidious. No nonsense. His master wanted me to dine with him and sent this one to make sure I did.

As we walked I heard the dainty, frolicking keys of a piano. The melody grew louder as we approached a door.

"Sounds like Merry is in a sprightly mood." The mysterious flirt guy behind me spoke.

Merry? Is that who's playing the piano?

The butler stopped at the door, braced himself for a trial, and knocked three times.

"Pardon me... Ahem. I know that you are in there. Come join us in the dining room." I patiently stopped just behind the butler, fidgeting with my fingers nervously.

The piano stopped, cut short. The door opened, revealing a man who remained firmly entrenched on the other side.

"Go away." He coldly stated.

"It is time for the banquet." The butler reasoned out.

The pianist, whose curt voice carried a faint Austrian accent, sighed as if he'd been rudely awakened from a beautiful dream.

He's gorgeous.

He stood unmoving. As if the flicking light of the chandeliers was the only life in him.

Dark brown hair laced across his still dark chocolate pool of eyes- eyes that narrowed unhappily when they landed on me.

"Why was everyone being so loud...? It's her fault, isn't it?" His cold eyes glared daggers towards me that sent shivers down my spine.

"My fault? I don't know why I'm here. I'm supposed to be at the museum." I almost sounded offended, annoyance was clear in my voice.

"Who cares. Why don't you just go back then? Unless you enjoy being everyone's food." His words caught me off guard.

Food? I must've misheard him.

He slipped past me, bending slightly to avoid touching me. This one wasn't interested in clearing up any misunderstandings.

"As if the banquet wasn't bad enough." My jaw dropped at his utter rudeness, what did I do?

He took staircase down, his cold voice having like notes in the air around us. We followed him. Another figure awaited us at the bottom of the steps.

"It's poor manners to keep those who've arrived on time keep waiting."

I knew this voice, which belonged to many countries and none.

My eyes clashed with those shiny emerald green eyes that stared back into my eyes. I let out a relieved breath that I didn't know I have been holding.

"It's you!" A relieved smile broke onto my face on finally seeing a familiar face.

It was the gentleman who'd found my earring back in the Musée du Louvre. I hurried down the steps, stopping short at the shift of those green eyes.

It's really him! Is he the lord of the manor? I certainly thought he was princely.

"Pardon. Do you remember me? We met in front of the coronation of Jackson. You picked up my earring." I desperately spoke as my chest heaved up and down as I breathe heavily. My heart was loudly thumping in my chest as I waited for his response.

He grinned, "Of course I remember you."

He came here by way of the Louvre, like I did. Good at this point, I just need to get to an exist, any exist, and call for a ride.

Before I could ask the gentleman the way out, my silver haired savior stepped between us.

"She says she came here through your door. Did you bring her here?" My saviour asked looking serious.

Just as when he'd grabbed my hand, he looked like he was... Protecting me.

"I did not. I can give you my oath, if you wish." He raised his hands in surrender, "Her arrival is just as surprising to me."

"Then how did she get here?" His cyan blue eyes squinted in confusion, but his voice was still firm.

What are they talking about? 'your door' ? 'My arrival' ? They're not making sense.

It was becoming harder to deny that something was very wrong here. I wanted out of here more than ever.

I just need to know where I am first.

I tapped my cellphone, 2: 50 pm. No signal.

"You've been very kind, but I really can't stay. I've got an itinerary to keep." I genuinely smiled before continuing, "we're still in the 1st arrondissement, yes? Where the Louvre is? That door there, does it lead outside?" I asked my questions rapid fire, before anyone else got the idea to interrupt me.

"...Hmm." Green eyed gentleman hummed and continued, "I'm afraid the answers you seek will only confuse you more. This isn't the place for long discussion however. Would you join me for dinner?"

A long discussion? 'Does that door lead outside?' The answer is either, yes or no.

Perhaps he sensed my growing aggravation. He added quickly, "Tonight's banquet is a rare occasion for us. But afterwards, I will answer all your questions. S'il vous plait."

I'd made it my job to help people plan their vacation adventures. As such, I had done the digging on any number of fancy hotels.

The gentleman from Paris' dining room was that of a palace. Warmly lit with chandeliers and candelabras. High backed wooden chairs framing the massive table. Four men were already seated.

There was the beautiful pianist. He seemed to be holding to his earlier statement, he looked unhappy to be here. There were two men sitting together, some distance from the pianist.

"Must've been pretty important to keep us waiting here. One second longer and I would've left." The brunette one was drumming his fingers impatiently on the table.

"Now, now. Getting angry about dinner is not going to make the food come out faster." The black haired one spoke with a small smile tugging at his lips while the other one's frown deepened.

"I have to be angry for two, mijn broer."

Broer? So, they're brothers? And dutch.

The black haired brother had the opposite attitude of his short tempered sibling. "Who's that?"

The nice one's gentle blue eyes stopped on me, "We've a guest? It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too." I awkwardly replied.

There was salvation in his smile. He looked like the paintings of the angels I'd seen in musée.

There he is. There's always that one person who makes everything brighter.

"We've a guest?" The fourth man, who had youthful face, raised his head, finally noticing our arrival. He'd been studying the tablecloth, as far as I could see. He got the briefest look at me before returning to thread counting. His hair as black as mid night sky were on his forehead and covering a portion of his brown eye as he kept his head bowed.

Is he shy?

He spoke, but I wasn't sure if it was to me, as he wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Whoever you are, have you considered sitting down?" He stated with his head down, "There's a queue behind you waiting to get in, you know."

"Tad, old boy, you do care!" The flirt guy slapped his shoulder with a playful cheshire grin on his face.

"Can you desist calling me that wretched--!" Tad placed his hands on the table as though to push to his feet. I heard a sharp clap behind me.

"That will be enough of that, you two. I require good manners at my table." The gentleman from paris gave everyone in the room a warning look, cloaked in a smile.

"Let's be seated. There's a few empty chairs, but we'll have to start the toast without them. A votre santé!"

The gentleman raised a glass of golden champagne in a toast to good health. Immediately after, the butler began bringing at the first course.

I didn't join the gentleman in toast. I didn't touch my glass of champagne. It's not that I believed it was poison or drugged, though I was certainly wary. I didn't feel like joining in. Too much didn't make sense.

It should be a quarter past three and I should be at the Louvre. But it's nighttime. And we're seated at dinner.

I couldn't solve that puzzle right now. So I turned my attention to my companions.

Who are all these men? I haven't been introduced to anybody.

They were all from different countries. Was this an international meeting of some kind?

They don't particularly seem to be friends.

The gentleman from Paris, sitting at the head of the table, inclined his glass my way.

"Let us toast to tonight's most glorious and miraculous encounter. Santé." He smiled with a strange glint in his emerald green eyes.

"...Á la vôtre." Unable to refuse such a direct toast, I responded, looking in his eyes as I touched my glass to his. He finished his champagne. Feeling guilty, I took a sip of mine. It tasted wonderful.

Glorious? Miraculous? What's going on?

My stomach knew. I've only eaten a quick breakfast this morning, and I was hungry.

I'll be insulting him if I don't eat. And everything looks so good.

I tried the terrine. Pheasant with fresh basil. It tasted as exquisite as it looked.

I couldn't help but say, "My compliments to the chef."

The bisque is delicious too. You can taste the crab. It's thickened just right!

"He'll be pleased to hear that." The gentleman from Paris smiled at me and suddenly I was feeling my champagne.

Maybe he is just a harmless nobleman and I'm taking this all too seriously.

By all appearances, it was a perfectly pleasant evening. Wasn't this just the sort of romantic adventure I arranged for people?

"That was a wonderful first course." When the gentleman spoke, everyone stopped their quiet chatter and gave him their attention.

"I believe we should take this opportunity to introduce ourselves to our guest." The gentleman looked at me in the eye with his intense green eyes, "I will start us off. Everyone has taken to calling me Count Hans Isles."

Count? He's a Count? Maybe that explains his old world air.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He smiled gently towards me.

"The pleasure's all mine, sir." I stiffened, realizing belatedly I could've been making a better impression of myself.

Count Hans Isles next turned to his servant, "My hardworking butler and the chef of tonight's excellent banquet- Ah Xuan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Ah Xuan gave me a formal bow.

"The pleasure is mine."

A butler named Ah Xuan? How typical is that...? Except that I recognize your accent, 'Ah Xuan'. It's the same as my friend Yi. You're chinese.

"It occurs to me we haven't heard your name yet. I'd be pleased to know it." The gentleman suggested in his soft and gentle voice.

I guess there's no harm in it.

"I'm... Elsa Winters."

"That's such a pretty name." The man with angel's face, sitting across me was the first to reply. His soft blue eyes matched the happiness on his face. Only he was happy to see me here.

"I wasn't expecting someone like you to turn up here, I hope we can be friends. I'm Eric Hawkins, I'm a painter. It's nice to meet you." The man with angel's face introduced himself smiling genuinely at me.

"It's nice to meet you too."

A painter... Named Eric Hawkins? Is this theme of tonight's banquet pseudonyms?

But I smiled back. He seemed like a nice man.

"And this is my little brother. Go on, Jim, introduce yourself." Eric nodded at his brother.

"I'm Jim Hawkins. I'm an art dealer. Don't confuse me with Eric." He grumpily stated.

"I'll do my best."

Confuse you two? Not likely. Although I'd have pinned you for the older brother. Maybe it's his attitude, but Eric doesn't strike me as the oldest child.

"My introduction's over. So don't expect to get anything else from me." Jim opened a pocket watch and tapped the back, tap tap tap. As if to say, 'I've got things to do.'

What's his hurry? Goodness, is he the opposite of his brother or what?

I looked to the next line. Sitting to the right of Jim was Tad. I hadn't met Tad's eyes for a moment before he looked away from me again.

Will you just look at me? I don't bite.

If he could've curled up into a ball so small that he disappeared completely, I was certain he could have.

"...I'm Tadashi, Tadashi Hamada. I study physics." He hesitatingly spoke.

"Oh, so your name's Tadashi? Nice to meet you."

Is he a student? Maybe Cambridge. He's got that south english accent.

Then it hit me, it hit me hard. Tadashi Hamada?! 

"Wait. Should that be 'Sir Tadashi--?"

Just then, I heard one of the windows rising. To my surprise, someone was coming from outside! I didn't need to hear him speak to know he was Arab. The man waved at us.

"Well, well, would you look at that? I'm a little late, aren't I...? In we go." He's just about crossed the windowsill when his sleeve got caught. He pulled at it comically, ineffectually so.

He's wearing an old thawb and ghutra in the middle of paris? And he came in through the window? Where do I START with him?

"God's truth, can't you use a door?" Tadashi irritatedly stated brushing his hand in his hair.

"And keep everyone waiting? No, no, the window was much faster." He smiled, hooked like a fish on the window, but looking as if nothing about that was strange. I was still staring when he freed himself. His eyes fell on me.

"Oh, hello there, young one. Why, I'm happy to see you here. How's dinner?" He grinned like a cat, his hands on his hips.

"Uh it's... Good." I awkwardly replied.

"Isn't it? Well, Xuan-saghir made it and you wouldn't believe how fast his cooking gets gobbled up." He nonchalantly took the seat next to Tadashi, who immediately slid away from him.

"You arrived just in time. We were all introducing ourselves to our guest." Count Hans Isles smiled at him.

"You'd like me to introduce myself?" He pointed at himself, Count Hans Isles nodded his head at his innocent question.

"I'm Aladdin, just a poor writer struggling to make his way in the world."

"Aladdin. The writer. Okay." I grinned nodding my head and took a huge sip of my champagne, placing my hand on my forehead.

Oh, yes. I know you. I had read you in my high school classical literature class.

I rubbed my temples. How was my champagne glass doing...? Empty.

Now I feel bad. I should have introduced myself as Marie Antoinette. No, Queen Victoria?

I looked back at the 'Hawkins' brothers. It was 'Eric' who had started this weird chain of nonsense names. Yet he had the most innocent smile.

Who are these people? I mean REALLY.

"I get it now!" I exclaimed with a lazy grin on my face. They all looked at me weirdly.

This must be for one of those reality segments they run on morning TV. 'Surprise! You've travelled back in time!' they got actors. Everyone sees how panicked the guests get. They laugh... But they need my written permission for that. Besides, why rent out such a grand mansion for a variety of skit? And in paris?

"Oh, sorry. Please continue. Ignore me. Haha." I giggled finishing my champagne glass in one go.

That didn't make any sense at all. Now I regretted drinking the champagne. Had there been something in it?

Never mind. Who's next. Surprise me!

Skipping several empty chairs brought us to the coldly beautiful pianist.

'Merry' that's what the flirt had called him.

At the very least, this can't be a joke because this one would never play along.

"Merlin LeClair. Composer."

"Hello, Merlin." I waved at him.

Of course the pianist calls himself LeClaire! I would've accepted Beethoven too.

It was strange that the man who hated parties would join in on this silly game. Oh, and lest we forget the flirt.

"I do believe I'm next!" He cleared his throat before smirking, "I'm Flynn Rider. Mystery writer. And don't call me sir, just Flynn. As long as I get to call you Elsa."

I was so drunk! I once again looked at my fourth empty glass of champagne.

"Of course, you're Flynn Rider."

Now, I believe that HE's capable of saying anything to anyone if he thought it could get his foot in the door.

But would they all be lying to me?

No, not lying. They're pseudonyms then. They have to be. They're celebrities or dignitaries. And they're giving me fake names to keep their identities secret or something.

"I believe that leaves you." Count Hans' velvet voice arrested my fancies.

Only one man was left. My protector.

He wanted me to get out of here. He promised to answer my questions as soon as we were gone.

For some reason, I'd instantly trusted him. More than anyone else here. Would he lie to me too?

I rubbed my temples feeling a headache. God! My head.

My silver haired savior looked at me with those eyes that hid nothing and said...

"Jackson. Jackson Overland Frost. I'm a soldier."

I started laughing as I stood up from my chair. It was so funny! I was looking at the paintings of Jackson's coronation in the Musée. He died and now a guy was in front of me claiming to be Jackson Overland Frost.

They looked at me like I was crazy. Wrong! You people are crazy.

"I gotta go. Thanks for having me here." I continued laughing as I grabbed my purse and coat and started walking to the door that lead outside the crazy room.

"Ah! you're so funny." I was still trying to hold my laughter when I felt a pang of pain in my head and everything turned black.

I think... I passed out.

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Hello guys! I'm so sorry for my late update. I promise to try and further update it and fast.

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