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Gold threads sparkled in delicate embroidery in his waistcoat, she could see now that he was closer. Along with pearl and diamond buttons. His shirt was a pristine white; his bowtie a matching silver. And a large diamond pin adorned his lapel. Matching the single diamond stud that blinked in one perfect earlobe.
How daring!
The other fae creatures receded to blurs of black and brown. Against this backdrop, the Pale Prince stood out like a radiant beacon of light in the darkness.
She couldn’t look away if she tried.
And then, he was immediately before her, closer than he’d ever been.
She looked up,wayup, from where she sat, immobilized and breathless with anticipation.
The rabbits, owls and does that surrounded her froze in awe. All was quiet in fairyland.
Even the waterfall ceased to splash. Everyone held their breath along with her. And the only sound she could hear was the thundering beat of her own heart.
The Pale Prince bowed regally before her and extended his hand, palm up.
“May I have this dance, fair maiden?”
~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~
Had he said the right thing?
He believed he had. For, she consented to stand up with him, hadn’t she?
How easy it was to ensnare the unsuspecting human.
How easy it was to fool them all.
He’d spent the better part of two hours observing the proceedings from the neglected corners of the mansion and manicured grounds. He disguised himself as one of the servants, a different attire for different stations. A footman. A gardener. A groom. He’d stealthily assessed every brick and bush upon these lands.
No one so much as blinked an eye in his direction.
There was nothing he could do about his features, stature or coloring, but he found that humans paid more attention to the packaging. His height could be overlooked if he slouched or hunched subserviently. He was right there in broad daylight, or rather, roaring torchlight, in the middle of it all.
They never suspected the monster lurking within.
He watched how the humans interacted with each other. Their customs, affectations and gestures. He listened closely to how they spoke. The words as well as the tone and accents.
Some things were better conveyed by what was unsaid than what was said.
He saw the coy smiles behind fans and silken gloves. The bold stares and sly grins. The shy flutters of lashes and hesitant brushes of fingertips.
He witnessed it all. How to court and captivate a human female in her natural habitat.
Then, he circled into the back gardens and bounded to the third-floor terrace in one smooth leap, acting for all the world as if he’d flown in from the night on a chariot drawn by swans (this was a particular fantasy of hers)—
And made his grand entrance through the sparkling glass doors with the self-possession of a predator who knew exactly how to stalk his prey.
He conjured a disguise to fit her dream of him, the better to weave his deadly spell.
The rest of the world beheld him in awe, as he intended. They parted instinctively like schools of nervous fish to let him pass. Already, whispers spread like wildfire around the ballroom about his princely origins.
For royalty he must naturally be. A mere Duke would hardly suffice.
Some murmured that he hailed from Prussia, Poland, Russia or farther north. Some said he was too exotic for those lands, despite his icy paleness and glittering light eyes.
Perhaps he came from a yet undiscovered distant isle.
