• She comes down from the staircase, the aura of invincible vanity and everlasting grace making heads turn, eyes unsurprised but bedazzled, nobles bow, strangers gape, and the emperor to don a delighted smile.

    On one hand, a glass half-filled, half-emptied of crimson wine while the other gently grasps the handle of the stairs, easily gliding on its impeccable marmoreal finish.

    The heels on her shoes resonate with pride in every step until the cacophony halts silently on the grand floor.

    “Nobles and thy magnificence,” She started with a sensuous smile on her plump, blood-red lips, her cat-like scarlet orbs gracefully inspecting the gargantuan ballroom.

    As she paused, no one dared speak for her words are too precious to be intervened with babble, too hanged heavily on her fluid tongue to cut off.

    “Before you,” She thunders with grace. “, I stand as the amethyst, the ruby, an emerald, purest gold, the silver plate, the bronze statue, the sylph, alabaster-skinned woman on every artist’s canvas.”

    Then her smile hid beneath the veils of her long, lush, ebony eyelashes as she did a decent curtsy, her manicured hands gently holding onto her royal-red gown.

    “Welcome to a ball as grand as you.” A nobleman satirically spoke as a wry smile crept on his aged face, his viridian eyes full of spite.

    And the perfected beauty beside him merely smiled back with innocence as though she knew no discrimination or contempt.

    “Your entrancing verdant eyes say it all. I thank you.” She bowed then walked ahead the ashamed and enraged man.

    Speak of witches and hex. Curse her love for vanity, he mentally shouted as the image of her burgundy gown faded in the enclosing crowd.

    The emperor descended from his throne, the 25 years of good repute and keeping the peace wearing him down, marring his once-youthful face with wrinkles.

    But wonder of wonders! How can she enliven him with mere looks?

    The heavy quilt and crown became featherweight as the beauty’s scent drifted towards him with the scent of musky roses, only a hairbreadth away from his flared nostrils even though she was a good twenty steps away.

    “My magnificence,” She bowed and patronized from a distance, wary of the empress’ malicious glares. But who could blame her? Who could blame her God-given and God-cursed beauty? Who could blame her for perfectly aligning herself with the diamond-light from the chandelier above, making shimmers on her creamy skin?

    The emperor laughed in amusement. “Dearest of beauty and elegance, your magnificence outshines my own.”

    And the grand ladies and empress threw envious glares while the gentlemen secretly savored her musky laugh.

    “But, sire, my magnificence will soon be conquered.”

    She spoke with a small grin but there was a melancholy she failed to hide.

    Was she clairvoyant? Psychic? How was she able to see her sylph body, undressed, lifeless, and drenched in her own blood?

    “Conquered but never forgotten.” The empress finally spoke with competing pride, her feminine voice bold and stout, sarcastically appraising the beauty before her.

    “Let the dance commence.” The emperor ordered and suavely offered his calloused palms to the warmth of the beauty’s refined ones.

    Everybody else swung and swayed to the waltz of their lives. But for the emperor, if only the night could last forever, if only the deep blackness of his eyes could confine that of beauty’s scarlet orbs eternally.

    “A rarity to see lips soaked in blood and eyes heavenly colored with soft red, the flecks of gold I can see in it.” The emperor silently praised, half-wary and half-lost in the dance.

    “Your majesty, I am merely mortal. I have flaws I intend to hide forever.” And with that they both parted with a curtsy and a smile.

    Do not get too close to my heart, she thought with a wry smile as she exited the ball, because tonight the empress will strike it.

    And she knew it.