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inspired by who is she by i monster

cardans pov

I am being whisked into dances by Faeries of all sorts.

Blue skin, yellow skin, wings, no wings, sharp teeth, normal teeth, purple eyes, green eyes. The Fae come in all kinds of shapes and sizes. There are trolls, ogres, goblins, sea creatures, Unseelie, Seelie.

I'm sure the people around me can tell I am not sober, considering I am stumbling, but the woman I am dancing with doesn't seem to mind. She is a red haired witch who has been flirting with me all night. As a prince of Elfhame, this is not surprising. Although, I am getting rather bored of her.

My eyes sweep through the ballroom, eager to find someone new.

I pause once I spot an unfamiliar brown haired girl.

Oh, who is she?

She seems to be quite plain compared to the other ladies I have seen. I watch as she walks, slightly entranced by the two horns someone has made out of her hair. Suddenly, she turns around and I stop in the middle of my dance.

I can hear the girl I am dancing with say something but I cannot decipher her words. I am too focused on the brown-haired girls ears.

They are round. She is a mortal.

My first thought is: Is she under a spell? But she doesn't seem to be acting like the servants at Hollow Hall.

If anything, she fits right in.

I excuse myself from the dance, knowing the line of ladies who are waiting for a chance to dance with me are going to be disappointed, but all I can think about is her haunting face.

As I near her, someone bumps into me and I feel my chest wetten. Wine drips over the front of my shirt. My eyes flit toward the short goblin carrying an empty goblet. Her mouth is wide open, realization flooding her eyes.

"Prince Cardan! I-"

I push her out of the way and I might have done more if I was not so desperate to see this mortal girl.

I do not know why I am chasing after her. I do not chase. I am known for being cruel, not running around the palace making sure a surprisingly pretty mortal is not enchanted.

And yet, my eyes scan the crowd, hoping to find a glimpse of her oak colored hair. But I do not.

She is gone.

Jurdan OneshotsWhere stories live. Discover now