Act I, Scene VIII

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"Beauty is a form of Genius — is higher, indeed, than Genius, as it needs no explanation. It cannot be questioned. It has divine right of sovereignty. It makes princes of those who have it."
~ Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

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A face was meant to have flaws.

Even the most beautiful of faces lacked precise symmetry. Or donned a minute blemish. Or, perhaps, a slight crease around the eyes.

Human beings believed they strove for perfection, but really, it was near perfection that they sought.

Lucy knew this.

She knew this because, in that moment, staring up into the stranger's angelic visage, she was seeing perfection.

And it was terrifying.

Terrifying and unnatural. The face of something that could not be real. Something that could not exist. A painting that moved, and spoke, and smiled.

A smile to end all worlds...

She tried to speak, but no words came forth. She made a dumbstruck sound that fell somewhere between a sigh and a whimper, so commanding was his presence.

Seeing her struggle, the stranger's grin grew wider.

Suddenly, Lucy sensed Dr. Reed next to her. With much anguish, she tore her gaze away from the stranger. Turning her head was a feat, but she managed, and she let her wide eyes settle on the physician's face.

He looked angry. And not the least bit impressed.

"By all means, just let yourself in," Dr. Reed berated the stranger between clenched teeth. "No forewarning. No decorum. Typical."

His voice was hard. Terse. And familiar. These two men were acquainted.

The stranger did not appear to be bothered by Dr. Reed's frigid address.

"Thomas!" came his jovial response. "Is that any way to greet an old friend? Haven't you missed me?"

"I'd say yes, but I wouldn't want to sound disingenuous," Dr. Reed stated. "And I'll thank you to release Miss Penn."

Lucy looked down. Indeed, her wrist was still caught in the stranger's grasp. She tried to pull away, but her efforts were in vain. Even exuding no force, he proved to be several times stronger than she.

Dr. Reed's voice dropped in volume but rose in fervor. "Unhand her."

A warning.

"Thomas. Come now," the stranger purred. "I mean no harm." He adopted the same low volume, but his tone exuded a playful, taunting quality.

His voice was as beautiful as his face.

Lucy flinched. The enmity seething from Dr. Reed was nearly as encompassing as the fog that surrounded them.

"Your intentions are of no consequence," Dr. Reed informed the stranger. "You are causing her discomfort. Why are you here?"

"Ahhh," the stranger teased. "So you fancy this one."

Lucy had heard quite enough. Finding her voice, she accosted the stranger. "First meetings usually warrant introductions — unless you are devoid of all propriety and courtesy. I am Lucy Penn. Who are you?"

The stranger's eyes widened and a gleeful laugh escaped him. His fingers eased down the length of Lucy's wrist, taking gentle hold of her hand and bringing it to his lips. He placed a lingering kiss upon her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers.

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