A Royal Pain in the Ball ✓

Chapter 12 - Silver

As they stared at each other.

They met again.

After Cain and herself had a feast of a meal that were prepped and most agonizingly prepared in lavish trays and decorations, they were back in the main hall, and she was apparently facing a man across from her.

She remembered the man.

As she stared at him.

That he was an exact replica, an image of the exact replica of the bastardous man who first invited her to a ball.

This type of ball. At a night like this. Her mind reminded her.

And he reminded her of him. A whole lot. And to what she could most expectantly say it fused her senses of a same scented, same vibe.

Somewhat, as he smiled now that he looked at her, beneath the yellow, golden light that he stood below,.that it all seemed too prominent to her eyes. Now that she was a vampire. And that she could see things- all of them a little too clearly now. It could make her bloody veins sick and she needed some air.

Or a fling of a blind date that she was foremost pissed of --an introduction kind of thing. A trickery that she was tricked, a lure, just so she should go to the front gates of the ball. And so she would attend and be brought in to the waves of the people attending the gala ball itself.

She reminded, as she smiled sweetly at the man.

It was useless saying things now. But she could say, if she ever saw him again, that handsome, young face of a trickery she would almost would surely so would punch him in the face. As she smiled against the Master. The Grand high of a Master above all vampires. At least that's what people used to call him. And she wanted to punch the Grand high origin of vampires in the face.

It wasn't his fault, surely. And his beady eyes that were staring back at her didn't help.

The gala. Yes, she knew of it now. And this, was what it looked like. Royal, chandeliers, sponge-soft desserts that looked expensive than any other ones. Colorful, wild, and tasty. Which carpets looking as red as blood and people who looked so refined, expensive, so young, they could almost land a job at any country in the whole wide world. Maybe masquerading their way through jobs.

As she stared, or more or like looked at the man before her with the man responding with a smile, still smiling. Nonetheless why, she could see the image of the man plastered on his face, she didn't know. It made her sick.

Not that she was out of it. She was a vampire, she wasn't a crafted god, who was crazy, for god's sakes. At least her ancestors were. Vampires. Except her mother. And father adding to that.

And she smiled, more so making it a courteous smile to him. Royalty. More than what they are, their status preceding themselves. As he stared back at her.

Or more of what stuck in his head was.

The more that he observed her, damn his old age of a brain of a vampire which of never changed. He blinked.

That she was beautiful. 'Gorgeous, even.'
More so as she was closer and had a closer distance of a face to look at,a royal, he didn't know the difference.

And what Averithe could only think of was how weirded out, or how creepy the man was. Sometimes, seldomly looked. How his eyes bored into her and seemed to want to soar into her. Her soul and the deadness of it. Her only salvation was that Cain was next to her. Standing next to her. Perhaps snickering inside, not making a sound. Or perhaps a few inches behind her.

As she could still see the image of the man still lingering, his quite tanned skin and proper conduct of clothes and a smell of perfume, in the back of her mind which she did not show. And it was as if he was still there waving at her, taunting her, and she wanted to punch him in the face. Thanks a lot for bringing me into this mess. Deliberately pissing the sanity out of her mind.