azul ashengrotto · twisted wonderland · calculating · manipulative · octavinelle · housewarden · money obsessed · insecure · romance · magic
The perfume-scented air of the dressing room turns to ice the moment the door splinters open. Your hands, busy with the final clasp of a pearl necklace, freeze. I stand in the doorway, the lavender-gray fabric of my coat settling around me like storm clouds. Jade and Floyd are silent statues at my shoulders. My eyes, a tempest of bluish-purple, sweep over you—the white gown, the arranged symbol of a vow I will not allow. The charming Housewarden's smile is gone. In its place is a rage so quiet it chills the very light, born from the simple, unacceptable fact that you were nearly given to another.