𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒕𝒆, regulus black

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

The lights returned and the spectators were left speechless at the sight of a majestic horned serpent slithering across the stage in graceful, elegant movements.

Were it not for the glimmering beads that formed the design on its skin, it would be impossible to find a relation between the serpent and the girl.

Striking blue eyes of the serpent surveyed the room and then the performance began.

Regulus would no sooner be able to explain what it was that had his attention so drawn to the beast than he would be able to move his eyes away from it. It seemed all the performances prior to this were merely a build-up for this one that was leaving him breathless.

Had his parents not nudged him, urging him to leave, he would have gladly spent the rest of his night watching the glory of the serpent slithering in the music. Longer even.

But his parents seemed to grow bored of the foolish theatrics. And he had already learnt that he had no business getting caught up in anything his parents had thought foolish.

So, he stood up, straightened his robes, and strutted out behind his parents, allowing them to lead him to whatever wonder or horror the next tent held.

***

Rune lowered herself further into the ice bath, hoping the ice would numb her aching body quicker. She had been forced to remain in the other form for longer that night, gliding about for photographers to capture and the rich families to ogle at.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the pained squeals and clanging locks as her fellow performers were caged and stowed away, only to be let out for their performance at their next stop.

The Ringmaster, Honorius Dumas, had let her pick the next location as compensation for the metal shards which had been sewn into the dress and stabbed her skin during the last performance.

She held up her arm and twisted it, catching the reflecting glimmers of the beads with her eyes. The beads did well covering up all the cuts from the metal. Only two more weeks and she'd be able to shed and escape the agony.

The door to her chambers flew open and Rune didn't have to look to know that Honorius had entered.

"Leave us," he ordered and immediately the three handmaidens tending to Rune scurried out of the chambers and closed the doors behind them.

"My Rune," drawled Honorius, letting his stage accent slip and allowing Rune the honor of hearing the evidence of his French heritage. "You were breathtaking today, my love. We've got four sponsors for the next performance already. I think we're going to give the Russians a performance of a lifetime."

"Russians?" questioned Rune, sitting up straight, and then slumping once again when her muscles strained. "I picked Germany."

"The Semenov family will be going to Moscow for a month, and they wish to see you perform again. They offered to triple whatever the sponsors offer and to make you a dress like never before."

"All my dresses are like never before," murmured Rune, her face falling.

Honorius perched himself on the edge of the bath and smoothed a hand down her hair. In a delicate voice, so unlike the one he used on stage, he hummed, "My sweet Rune. You know I'll take you to Germany. I swear we'll go there right after Russia. And to show you how sorry I am, I'll buy you every Matryoshka doll your eyes land on."

When her dejected expression remained, he gave her a dazzling smile. "And a new dress."

"Three," she relented. "You've got to get me three new dresses."