Fiercer Than Fire

Increasing Inferno: II

After my mother disapproved of every single thing I chose, and I rejected all her dress ideas, we finally settled on me wearing a dark blue evening gown with my hair curled and tied up. My make up was on minimum since my mother said that natural beauty is preferred higher than any. 

She lectures me for a bit before grabbing my hand and smiling. "Oh, honey," she coos as she guides me before a pair of looming, oak wood doors, "You look lovely. Now, brace yourself, there is quite a number of men ready to capture that heart of yours. Remember, give it to only the greatest." 

I nod and try to smile, but how could I when I was sure that none of the men attending the ball my parents were holding, where to be my partner? At least not by my wish. 

If it was true love, it would not have been the product of a ball, or potential suitors' meet.

The night drags on and I reject every single possible suitor that there was. Nobody in the kingdom my parent's aided the royal family in ruling, makes my heart even skip a few beats, or my cheeks flush. I sigh and twirl my sparkling champagne. Nothing today was going right.

Finally, after a couple of hours of pretending to have a brilliant time, my parents corner me. "Have you decided on anyone?" my father asks, regret flashes in his eyes and I shake my head. My father was quite reluctant to carry this plan. My mother frowns at me and says in hushed yet firm voice, "If by the end of this night you do not choose a suitor, we'll chose one for you! I do remember seeing a lovely man standing near the banquet. What was his name, Phillip? Oh yes, Sir Letroy Hammi-" 

But my mother was unable to drawl out even another word for it was then that a frosted silence fell over the guests; the cause being the slam of the oak wood doors as they open.  My father straightens and is about to call to the guards to find the disrupt-or of the gala, when his face loses its rosy tone. "Heatherina," his voice trails out meekly and he glances at my mother with a shaken look oozing with anxiety, "He's here. The lord heeded our invite." For the first time in my entire life, I watch as my mother's mask of perfection drops and she shudders, her eyes widening as her lips part to form invisible words. A figure enters my vision and I spot him; the cause of the girls sighs and the blanket of apprehension to drop over our guests. The crowd parts for him as if he is royalty and the way he holds himself signifies that he may be more than that. He is positively the most breathtaking human being I have ever laid eyes on. 

His fair hair is a much lighter tone than mine is, and can easily be mistaken for the silver of the moon or the hue of the snow; it's unkept and brushes the tips of his light, long eyelashes that framed the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. They resemble that of a snake, predatory yet alluring, seducing you to step closer to your demise. They are silvery and akin to the glow of the moon, as well as the soft blue radiance of ice. He has a light scar on his left cheek and thin, pink lips that pull up into a smirk as he studies the gawking crowd of his admirers before him. He has a lean figure and his skin is extremely pale. 

He makes his way towards me, as regal as a god, before bowing, "May I have a dance, Valentina?" Though he calls me by my first name -a sure sign of disrespect as he has not been permitted to do so- my mother pushes me ahead and I take the hand that he has offered for me. As our hands make contact with each other, I note that his hands are as cold as the snow that falls in December, yet they don't freeze my hand or make me shiver. A crackle of something that feels like lightening zaps between us. I look up at him from beneath my eyelashes and notice that he's staring at me with a deep, unreadable expression.

For the first time that night, my heart skips more than just one beat, and my cheeks flush a tone much deeper than scarlet. His gaze seeps deeper into me and my entire world freezes.