A Curse so Twisted And Cruel.

A Meeting.

A week later.

I smiled at myself in the mirror. I had been smiling alot recently. Mostly when I was around Henry. He was so sweet and charming, and I felt happier when I was around him.

We had gotten to know each other quite well, (as well as two people could in a week) and spent the days he was off in the tower, talking and...sometimes making out. He was the one who would kiss me, and though I never minded, he would sometimes seem to forget my name. He said it was a girl he used to have a crush on, but never dated, and I reminded him of her.

I wasn't too sure what to make of that, but it didn't really bother me. I mean, everyone has a past, right? At least his doesn't include having killed a person.
I sigh, brushing my light pink hair back.

Yvonne, Meredyl's assistant, redyed it for me, on condition that she could practice her hairdressing skills on me.
I was originally reluctant to agree, but now, I have no regrets. She cut a few layers into my hair, and took care of the split ends. It's never looked better.

I've never looked better.

There's colour in my cheeks, which are fuller, and the dark circles under my eyes have almost disappeared. My hair is soft and shiny, and my eyes are bright and clear. I wondered if this was actually good for me.
Sure, I was still going to leave, but I might as well enjoy it while I can.

That's why I agreed when the King invited me to the fall ball. It was the beginning of fall, my favourite season, and the trees had begun to shed their green coats. The castle looked beautiful in the early mornings, a looming shadow amongst the fog and dry leaves.

I adjust the sleeves of the sage green dress that Meredyl brought me. It's beautiful. Turning away from my reflection and taking a deep breath, I begin the attempt to get to the grand throne room within the appointed time, with countless wrong turns.

I groan when I'm met with yet another very solid grey wall. What demented person built this stupid castle anyway? No, not castle, it's a freaking maze. "Agh!" I punch the wall in frustration, crying out again when the rough surface scrapes the skin from my knuckles.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I mutter, the pain from my burning knuckles fuelling my anger, and I aim a kick at the wall.
"OWWW!" I yell when the still very solid wall meets my foot. Hopping around like a drunken rabbit, I rub my sore toes, and, since the universe itself is against me, I end up on the ground with swollen knuckles, throbbing toes, and a bruised knee.

Fine then. I won't go to this stupid ball. Who even needs-

"Uhm. Do you need some help?" Some inconsiderate person asks from behind me. I mean, they couldn't just leave me to wallow in my misery, could they? Thanks, universe. No, really. Just top it off with embarrassment. Wonderful.

And then the person laughs. And laughs. And laughs. Huffing to hide my red faced embarrassment, I pick myself up as daintily as I could, (around the daintiness of an angry gorilla, and which I honestly can't say I didn't feel like.)
and turned to face the extremely impertinent person.

There was still a stupid smile on his face, showing the dimple in his cheek. It was quite cute actually, though I would eat my own fingers before I admitted that to the cocky bastard. I eyeballed him, hoping to wipe that arrogant smirk.
He just stared at me, looking like he was still keeping in a laugh.

Go ahead. We'll see how long you'll live after that.

"Can I help you?" I'm eventually the one to break our staring match, (one point to Jass for pure bravery. Cocky stranger: half. Okay, okay, fine. One point for the asshole.) His smile widens, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
"On the contrary, can I help you?"
He replies smoothly, tone bordering on mocking.

I grit my teeth at his impudence, folding my arms and moving to walk pass him.
Obviously, the bastard doesn't bother to move, and I squeeze through the small space between him and the wall.
Then, as I begin to walk away, he calls, "Where are you going?" At first, I just continue, considering ignoring him. But he doesn't get the satisfaction.

"None of your business." I reply coldly. To my immense annoyance, he follows me, his shoes thudding softly on the floor behind me. "So now you're going to follow me?" I ask, my hands fisting in order not to punch him too. I'm guessing it won't be very different from punching the wall. Only with more regret afterwards. But I would just love to sink my fist into that cocky smile...

"I'm going to the ball, which happens to be this way." He replies with a slight scoff, cutting off my bloodthirsty thoughts. "Really?" I say, faltering in surprise. He almost bumps into me, and hisses his annoyance. Snake. I think, rolling my eyes again. Honestly, if I didn't stop this, I was going to turn into another Lira.

He ignores my question, instead pushing passed me, and walking briskly ahead.
I follow him, firstly, because I had no idea where I was, and secondly; I did actually want to go to ball. We don't say anything more as I follow him through the winding passages. Then, after about five minutes of blissful silence, he decides to open his mouth.

"And now you're following me." He mutters, irritation lacing his voice. I scoff. "I'm going to ball, which happens to be this way." I throw his words back at him, and surprisingly, he chuckles. It stops abruptly though, as if he was also surprised he had done it.

"Fine then." He says, clearing his throat. We lapse into silence few a few moments, and, feeling a bit awkward, I break it. "I'm Jaslynn by the way." "Oh." He looks at me, something close to surprise on his face. "You're that woman the king saved?"

I blink, taken aback by the way he said it.
And quite annoyed. "He didn't save me." I say before I can stop myself. He presses his lips together, as if to stop a smile. "Okay, so you are." I just huff in response.
"I'm General Keshev." He says, giving me small bow.

My eyebrow raises. General? But I'm not sure what to say about it, so I just nod.
We reach the throne room doors a few seconds later, and I exhale in relief.
Finally. That had to have been the worst five minutes of my life.

I move forward, to enter the room, when he puts a hand on my arm. I turn to him, frowning. He's suddenly tense, eyes focusing forward. Confused, I follow his gaze. It's on the king, who is leaning back in the throne, eyes closed. A knot of ice twists in my stomach.

"Do you have an escort?" He asks. "No." I reply. "Well, now you do." He says, hooking his arm through mine and pulling me into the room behind him.