-𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓-
Elara Black.
The first and only child of Mae Potter and Regulus Black.
She was special because her hair changed with her moods and could change her freckles into the constellat...
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"Where is your dark witch? For she owes me a marriage"
The room stilled with this revelation, shattered glasses of champagne laid on the floor. The music stopped yet the Darkling did not release Elara from his hold. Yet the dancing pair followed the room's eyes to the centre of the problem.
The Fjderan prince.
Handsome, blue eyes and blonde hair, like most Fjderan's, a very sort out bachelor and set to inherit the Fjderan throne when his sickly father, the King passes. Perched on a table, gun in hand and a determined look in his eyes.
The other Fjderan officials and soldiers now armed with guns, aimed at every angle of the room.
Perhaps if he had asked nicely and Elara wasn't in the arms of the man that was supposedly the other half of her soul, Elara could see herself saying yes.
Yet none of those things were true, and while the prince might have decent dancing feet and a cute dimple, he also felt the urge to claim Elara and interrupt her flirting.
Elara did not like to be interrupted when she was annoying the Darkling. Especially not when he looked so good she just wanted to climb him like a tree and-
Elara was downright pissed at the interruption and now she was going to do the only thing more enjoyable than annoying Aleksander.
Making men cry.
Boy was this prince going to bawl.
⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅
Elara's laugh was the only thing breaking the room's tense silence, turning directly to face the prince yet Aleksander's arm lingered protective over her waist.
As if she was the one needing his protection, he better call a healer that could resurrect the dead because she was going to commit regicide.
The prince's smirk dropped slightly at her reaction, clearly not expecting one of such dismissal. Clearly the faint tears of laughter from her eye's Elara spoke up at the prince, "Oh I am sorry, I thought you claimed I owed you a marriage?"
The prince's smirk returned, "Ah but you do, see you accepted food from a Fjderan. Therefore expecting the traditional engagement gift of a Fjderan royal."
"I have not accepted any food today"
"Oh but I never said it was today." His tone was overjoyed, "Do you not remember in the forest Ulesk, two of my men reported sharing a part of their kill, and you accepted. See Fjderan tradition states that one of the royal subjects provides food for the bride, and if she accepts, the engagement is finalised."
His hands gestured around the room, "besides I have a gun pointed at your pretty little head from every angle possible, and a priest ready to marry us. Then we can start our travel back to Fjderan by sun rise"
Elara was amused. "You called me the dark witch summoner, that is the name that the people have given me. Do you know why they call me that?"
The prince did not respond, it was now Elara's turn to smirk.
"You see, I am a witch. I went to a school that had witchcraft in the name, and it as much part of me as the stars I summon. Yet your culture and traditions would burn me for my supposed sins. You might have a room full of guns, yet I have magic, and magic always wins"
With that every single gun in the room turned onto the soldier that had once held the gun. The gurgles of dragons, that decorated the ballroom, moved to life, flapping their stone wings and moving in a dance. Fire was born from Elara's hands, not controlled like a inferni but born. Haunting forms of kelpies, formed one with water and the other with fire, all from Elara's hands. The dragons and kelpie's seemed to dance with each other until a defences form took place.
As they confined their movement the scene was amusing to Elara, she did love the attention.
The room was in complete shock, and awe, the dark witch summoner stood there, staring down, even standing on the floor at the Fjderan, an army of her own creation, all by the flick of a wrist, guarding her.
"See, now I would travel to Fjderan and accept your proposal" Aleksander's hand on her stomach grew tense at that statement, "But as you can see I do rather well with fire, unlike you" The kelpie created from fire, danced through the air and towards the prince, dancing around his form and catching the trim of his clothing on fire "I can't burn"
