✔ 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔹𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕦𝕤 Fate: The Winx Saga

23. Secret Shadows

Octavia's Dress ^

Octavia

"Helios, this fashion is boring." Lady Scylla moans, "Why must we pay homage to a human tradition when they split away from the united realms centuries ago."

"Because it is tradition dear." The ambassador of the Undersea and mate of Lady Scylla placates. "Not everyone appreciates our style of clothes dear."

Scylla rolls her eyes, those shark dead eyes swirling with thousands of colours. That's the beauty of magical creatures, I know for a fact it looks like there's a thousand seas of colour in her eyes yet I can't help but feel as if they are merely dead shark eyes, peering out from her scaled features.

"The fairy dances will no doubt fill the social season." I comment with a sigh, unable to keep the wistfulness out of my voice. Lady Scylla giggles at me and I smile in return.

"See," She trills at her mate, looping her arm through his. "Princess Octavia agrees with me."

The Ambassador gives me a playfully annoyed expression before dipping his head farewell and leading his mate away to the dance floor where I can see my sister once again dancing with that same gentleman. I recognise him, he was hovering around the Archon family, perhaps he's a relative. Stella waltzed across the ballroom floor with a rare smile on her face, staring up at the stranger in adoration. Sweet Helios, I'm going to have a field day doing background checks on this one. At least Sky was fairly easy for me to clear and give approval, he practically has fan accounts with his father fame, not to mention hacking into Silva's computer was alarmingly easy. Though the videos of baby Sky and Silva were quite cute, there was even a whole folder of photos containing various people holding baby Sky. Andreas, Farah, Irene, Harvey... Silva didn't seem to be on them, poor sod was probably the camera man.

The crowd shifts and lulls with movement, the hour getting later and later. Dignitaries and delegations have started to leave, they're under no obligation to stay for one of the introductory balls. The time for showing off and staying out late will come once the spring ball season begins, thankfully during the height of Alfeas' summer holidays so students can attend without sacrificing their education. Not that they would care about missing a few classes.

I drift aimlessly through the crowd, slowly losing interest in the company around me. I've spoken to businessmen, artists, dignitaries, ambassadors, I've danced with pixies, nymphs, shifters, fawns and a dozen other lesser fae I can't put a name too. Quite frankly, I'm done. I am done dancing, talking, and socialising. My social battery is dead. I'm a shadow fairy for Helios' sake, I live in the shadows in my nice little introverted room. Why does nobody get that! Just because I have random bursts of social courage where I trick myself into thinking I'm an extrovert like my sister. I'm not.

And now, I'm hungry. Those strawberries I ate are definitely not enough, not to mention the amount of champagne and cocktails I've drank have no doubt gone straight to my head and will be kicking in soon if I'm not careful.

Slipping through the crowd to reach the back wall I drift towards the old servants stairs, now open to the public on tours and used by waiters during events. I remember the ruckus among the upper class when they found out lords of great houses were allowing the public to see the behind the scenes when they were showing off the grandeur of the houses. They were firmly of the belief that the 'working classes' should either be kept in the servants quarters entirely as workers or they should only see good things so the lords can show off. What a load of pretentious sods, but I suppose that's the curse of the older generation title. We'll all eventually become that jaded generation behind the times.

"You stupid waiter!" A fairy wails. "This is a brand new dress."

I glance to the side, seeing a yellow dress covered in champagne and a waiter having the whole bottle poured over his head by the pissed fairy. Well, at least I won't be that generation. Scoffing quietly I descend through the hidden corridors in search of the kitchens.