The King in Yellow

Act I, Scene 1: Palace of Yhtill, Late Afternoon

Scene: A high-vaulted salon in the Palace of Yhtill, overlooking the Lake of Hali. Golden late-afternoon light slants through tall windows, beyond which the twin suns hang low over the waters. The room is decorated for an evening fête: garlands, masks and costumes are laid out in preparation for the night’s masquerade. CASSILDA stands at a window, one hand resting on the stone sill, gazing toward the distant lake. CAMILLA sits nearby, at a dressing table scattered with half-finished masks and ornate fabrics. Servants occasionally pass in the background, finalizing decorations.

CASSILDA: (quietly, to herself, staring at the sky)
The suns draw down... how strange their colour this eve.
(She traces a finger on the glass.)
Two halos on the water, blurred as if by a veil of tears.
The suns decline together,
Yet how strange it is that they do not set as one.

CAMILLA: (not looking up)
Must even twilight draw a riddle from you?
Come, Cassilda, the hours wane!
Your robe lies in disarray, your mask unclaimed.
Shall the guests arrive before you’re dressed?

CASSILDA: (still at the window)
They will not miss me.
Yhtill sings loudly enough without my voice.

CAMILLA:
But with it, such song might carry to the stars.
Even the handsome prince Uoht shall be there.
I have also heard that Corydon and Cordelia shall be there.
(CAMILLA stands next to CASSILDA, looking out the window)
Did I not hear you at your harp this morning?
It clung to me all day.

CASSILDA: (turns with a small smile after rolling her eyes)
You are in high spirits, Camilla.

CAMILLA: (lightly, not looking up as she adjusts a costume)
And why not? The court is in rapture whilst you grow poetic at sunset, dear sister.
The new moon festival begins, and even the dour Chancellor has agreed to don a mask.
(She picks up a delicate mask of lace and holds it up.)
Come away from the window – we’ve dresses to prepare!
Tonight shall be the finest ball Yhtill has ever seen.
See – a thousand disguises, and for one night, all our sorrows are set aside.

CASSILDA: (half-smiling, approaching the table)
A night of many faces…
And behind them, what faces we may find.

CAMILLA: (laughing)
Poetry again!
Have you been composing verses for the festival?

CASSILDA: (softly)
Yes.
A song…