A Dance in the Dark (Book 1)

Chapter 19

It was past midnight when Rosé left her bed. Tired of fighting against insomnia.

Walking over to the wardrobe and peering into the large white mirror next to it, Rosé came face to face with her image. Even in the dark, with only the light coming from the moon outside, she could see some scars left by pimples and dark circles under her eyes from her sleepless nights, hair to be shaved, accumulated fat in the belly and waist, and dry ends of her hair.

She felt helpless, especially having someone like Ariady walking beside her every day.

In all her years, Rosé never imagined that she would find someone like her, loving and with a lot of patience. Ariady didn't look much older than her. She guessed her to be twenty-nine at most. It was impossible not to be jealous of her appearance. Her skin was flawless, not to mention how her body was beautiful, almost as though it was sculpted.

Rosélina turned away, seeing a dress hanging and a message alongside it.

We're having a party in a few days. Fancy dress code xxx

Below the dress was a pair of cream high heels, detailed by lace pink flowers and glitter. Matching her tulle mini dress hanging on top.

Rosé closed the wardrobe, approaching the windows. It was a full moon reflecting on the waters on the horizon. She was far from being sleepy and didn't intend to return to bed so soon. She wanted to explore what was out there.

With a robe on, she left her room.

Walk in the corridors after eleven is not allowed, she recalled Ariady's words.

The door emitted a high-pitched squeak as it swung open. "Shit!" She cursed, looking at both sides before leaving. Her room was almost the last of the corridor on the west side of the palace. She memorised this fact in case she needed it.

The halls were unlighted and silent like she was the only living soul inside the palace, broken only by the soft whispers of the night breeze.

Her footsteps were barely audible against the marble.

Despite the darkness, she could still admire the details, walking with such grace past the tapestries, not afraid of being caught, mingling in the shadows. Rosé walked down the long stairs of the entrance, feeling like a princess running from her problems.

Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when she turned onto another corridor, coming across a boy.

He was way taller than her. One of his eyes was honey-coloured as if a sun was shining on his face, while the other was as white as the full moon. His expressions were delicate. His skin was perfect, and his curly hair was blacker than the darkest night.

There was something different about him.

His face seemed to disappear, and his whole body seemed to be a malfunctioning projector. At one point, he was there, perfectly intact and of high quality, and the next, his body seemed almost invisible.

They exchanged a long glance. His eyes were wide open as if caught doing something wrong—they both were. Rosé considered turning away, or maybe she should have passed him by and continued her way.

She didn't know who he was or what he was. There were many human things in him, but many abnormal ones. There was something about him. Something Rosé couldn't identify that dragged her to him.

He looked away and took something out of his pocket.

With a notepad and a pen, he began writing something on it. He looked at Rosé and approached her, delivering the notepad into her hands. She was confused at first. Maybe it was past time, and her brain wasn't working perfectly. She took the notebook carefully, and before looking at it, the child took a step back and waited for her to read.