the way her disheveled champagne curls made conversation with the faintly perfumed parlour's air, and how she spoke with unwavering equanimity and sugary enunciation; how her alluring demeanor melted the gallant hearts of lands she blessed with her princess prance.
her unsettlingly inquisitive eyes roamed freely over books of love, virtue and myths of past with her slender, jewelled fingers tracing the nervous spines of books and beguiled men alike—with careful precision. her spells of mystical benevolence spared even the culprits behind heinous transgressions, such was her clemency.
cherry red stained were her lips that murmured orisons into the unquestioning ears of mellow men, tampering with their astute judgements, driving them slowly to insanity. her sterling predisposition was suspected by none for she was beauty, as she was grace.
all that was to be done in the end, was a blind eye turned to the blue-black on her tortured porcelain skin.
'do what they will, behind doors, her and her shadow prince.'
