A Royal Pain in the Ball ✓

Chapter 9 - Ashened

The next day.

It was the next day.

It was time for a preparation. They both dressed and did well in their grooms, as such someone would go well to a party, with their furnish and their tights, wearing the attire as of the letter of invitation.

For Averithe, the dark color suited well on her. It was Navy. Cobalt. She didn't know what it was. As she did her final touches and the final brush of a swig of her hair.

She stared at the mirror.

She looked beautiful. Okay. Pretty much okay.

She was feeling.. rather deluded.

Before-- as she would stare at the mirror against herself, glancing at the reflection, staring at her figure, mostly her face.

She seemed so young.. And she was whiter than she was ever before, much to an explanation of wearing the whitest shade of foundation to her own mother. She smiled at the sentence --at the mirror.

In a sense to prepare herself before she went to the ball. The party. And not before long, all of a sudden, there
was a glimmer in her eyes. Something happened.

As she stayed. Frozen. As it swirled, as if in response, as it seemed to speak to her about the ways - of how the colors took place --as it moved. She understood.

She blinked.

She frowned. Why now? What did it want to do? She stared long and hard, and then it was back to its original color.

But now they were a hue of grey. Ash.

She frowned in confusion and almost called Cain for help. The grey stench and now a hue of blue, like it'd always been--
now brighter and seemed to want to speak to her- a thousand souls, it might- could contain. And when it hit the sunlight, she didn't want to know what would happen.

As she almost wanted to ask for help-- as she saw Cain suddenly appeared from the other side of the door, appearing and zapping next to her -before the mirror.

She didn't know why- or how it became that way. She didn't need to explain to him, she knew. He might've already gotten a sense- or might as well understood it already.

As she looked at him through the mirror, at his figured reflection, and Cain almost had his mouth open- "Your eyes.." He suddenly spoke, as she shifted in her position.

"Yes.. I think they turned.. darker. A darker shade of grey. It's almost if I can see the sea in it." She drowned- as she leaned in, touching her right cheek, closer to her eyes, that she leaned in and stared right into them. Both of them.

Then they returned to normal. It was grey. She raised an eyebrow.

"I'm guessing I know the ways and tips and tricks now.." She joked. It might have taken a course of it being natural, or an eventful drama of herself- it seemed.

"Right." He replied, almost sniggering at her.

In a sense, as he looked at her reflection. "You might want to have that under control." He raised a suspicious eyebrow of a raise.
Averithe threw him a glare.

"I'm guessing I know the ways to be a vampire now." She commented, which she knew it was empty meaning.

"Except maybe perhaps you should drink more blood." He commented.

She threw him a glare.

"I've already drunken a lot of blood from your daily dose of breakfast." She replied.

She looked back up at him, and in a moment that she stared, they hugged.
She wanted to test it out. herself before the mirror that she started to use- the blowing a breath of wind, her vampiric flowing blood--cold as ice.

As she saw herself through the mirror, and from her eyes that she saw it turn- the color and then of an emerald blue, and then to its normal color. Her light grey color. And then. The swirling of magnetism that it shuffled around two irises.

And then it did.

It was red all right.

She smirked. It almost felt all the while cheesy, to smile that way, but it was fun, and it was a first. A whole damn first for her to use. With her cheesy smile at the mirror which Cain noticed, he almost rolled her eyes at her as they embraced, which he almost felt --they-- were waddling two pigeons in a pod.

"Good for you." He settled, spoke. and

"It seems you pretty much had it covered." He commented.

"We wouldn't know what would happen to you- to us both." He spoke when she didn't answer.

And Averithe hit him lightly in the arm. Stupid muscled vampire.

"I know what to do with it." She snarkly said.

Silence.

And that's what they did, that they announced, 'an angel. Angel blood.' They chanted. She heard it echoing inside her head. And she almost gasped. But she stayed quiet. Silent.

Intertwined, in a serenely kind of way she could never understand. Throughout her veins and her blood. Revering, coursing through her. She could feel it in every particle in her- of her own body. And she didn't know what was happening. But she was much too scared to speak of it. Or even to nounce a word against her lips. Or even to Cain.

Or more precisely, she now felt light. She knew it was safe, but it felt weird all the same. It seemed to tranquilize and meld within her -as one with her blood, as she felt it moving. This feeling, as she held herself against Cain's embrace. She let her body sway against his embrace, before the mirror as she laid her head against his chest, against almost of his shoulder that she rested.

Her veins -- now they felt light.

They were at bay. She froze. But none that Cain knew about.

And as of that that she remembered, that she was--a half-angel. Thinking of it back, what she once read inside the caves of the diary. What she'd once read inside the chambers of darkness. She didn't want to remember much, or think about.

"We should go now." Cain suddenly said, as he spoke almost muffled by her hair.

"Yes, we should go." She replied.

Softly. Much too softly.

She hid her smile. She didn't want any of her questions now. She missed her mother. And that's how it's supposed to be.

He held her hand, which she was reluctant with as she felt the cool temperature seeping through her hands. Which she asked if he could make it a little bit warmer. Ignored.

As she pouted against him, looking away.

As usual, Averithe was expecting a carriage to bring them off to the party off to their destination. Cain thought it was an ordinary thing to do. A light-weight, ordinary, simple thing to do when riding off to another place of their destination. Trying to lift a lip-full of emotion on Averithe while he did so, as he smiled along.

As he held her hand.

She felt reluctant.

She might altogether not go to this ball. Who knows what creepy, mythical vampires she could meet altogether in the ball?

She almost shook her head. As he held against her fingers five-to five, he went off of with her hand and into nothingness.

And she might as well be a ghost of a screecher.