You won’t let fear get the best of you, Cinder. You are here for a reason, and this may be your only chance.
Is it idiotic to try and blend in amongst the fanged when I am so painfully human and my veins overrunneth with what they subsist on?
Yes.
Am I going to pick up my skirts and click away in my little glass heels?
Fuck no.
As I make my way through the crowd, I can’t help but overhear the giggles from a group of young ladies.
“Prince Charming looks absolutely delicious tonight,” one of them gushes. “It’s no wonder he’s bedded over half the court already.”
Her companion titters behind her fan. “Well, can you blame them? With that smoldering gaze and wicked smile, I'd let him ravish me whenever he wished.”
I roll my eyes, trying to block out their inane chatter. The last thing I need is to get caught up in the drama of the playboy prince and his gaggle of admirers. I have my own mission to focus on.
A third lady chimes in, her tone conspiratorial. “I heard he once seduced a duchess and her daughter on the same night, convincing them to engage in scandalous play witheach other. The man has no shame.”
The first one turns to the second girl. “I heard that rumor too and it was about you, Lady Felicia.”
I freeze mid-step, my ears straining to catch every juicy detail. The temptation to eavesdrop overpowers my urgency to get what I came for.
The second fairy's face contorts, her features twisting into a pinched and stricken expression. She looks as though she sucked down some spoiled blood.
Oh witchtits, it’s true! And that girl was just outed so hard.
Wait, with her own mom?
Yikes.
Okay, maybe I enjoy a little bit of gossip. I blame my bestie Goldie for making me watch so many trashy reality mage shows where a bunch of egotistical, power-hungry hotties have to live in the same house together.
Unable to help myself, I glide closer to the group. “Oh, that’s just a typical Tuesday for us,” I chime in nonchalantly. “We usually have our romps in the stable with a strap-on at his insistence and his exotic pet monkey as an audience.”
I float away, leaving behind the collective gasp of shock and awe.
Okay, so I’m here to steal something but it doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun. Especially at the expense of Prince Charming.
Walking to the far side of the ballroom, I approach the art expanding across the entirety of the wall in front of me. All amusement drops away as my heart jerks up into my throat.
Nostalgia is quickly followed by a warm prickling sensation attacking my stomach with a painful vengeance. Tears burn at the backs of my eyes. I’m not sentimental or a crier, but this damn near pushes me to the brink.
Strong, wide brush strokes travel along the canvas with iridescent splendor. Its textured colors rise off the canvas, tempting the viewer to run their fingers across the surface and feel the layers of paint. The painting seems to glow with an otherworldly luminescence as if the very essence of the moonlight has been woven into the work.
The landscape of the Midnight Kingdom unfolds before me, captured with an almost ethereal beauty. The misty moors stretch out to the horizon, their edges softened by the gentle caress of starlight. The colors are rich and vivid, yet there's a dreamlike quality to them as if they might shift and dance at any moment.
I’m swept away in an ocean of magic just looking at it.
More than the art itself is the memory of my father once bent over this piece, brush in hand, paint flecked in his dark hair and unkempt goatee. I can almost smell the smoke of the cigarillo that always hung off his lips. I miss him so badly it nearly rocks me off my feet.
It also reminds me of what I came for.
“Do you think it’s in poor taste of our King to use Byung-He’s art as the backdrop for our social season?” a woman asks her partner in a low tone to my left.
It takes all my wherewithal not to stiffen at the mention of my father’s name. Thankfully, the couple doesn’t take any note of my presence as they do the forbidden—question their King.
The man answers. “He may have been human, but it is undeniable his art is transcendent. And seeing as he was the King’s confidant and familiar, I can’t say it’s that surprising to commemorate the day of the man’s death.”
