Rowan's POV:
I skipped lightly along the cobblestoned path, my heels clicking with each playful step, the cool evening breeze lifting the edges of my dress. Perched comfortably on my shoulder, Berry squinted at the grandeur around us, his tiny wings fluttering with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. I glanced down at the dress I'd just acquired—or, more accurately, liberated—from a peculiar boutique called "HookersRus." It was a daring creation, a deep crimson chiv dress that cascaded down my frame like liquid silk. The fabric clung to my curves in all the right ways, accentuating my bosom without sacrificing elegance. It was bold, it was beautiful, and it was just the thing to make an impression at the ball.
I nervously bit my lower lip as my mind raced ahead. Tonight was the night—I was going to meet Queen Cinderella and King Sukuna. It was an honor, sure, but it was also terrifying. I had no idea what to expect. These were figures of legend, rulers of a kingdom with as much magic in its stones as there was in the air.
Berry's voice cut through my thoughts. "Do we really need to go to this ball?" he asked, his wings flicking uneasily as his eyes scanned the opulent surroundings. "What if this is a trap? Sukuna isn't just the king of this kingdom; he's the King of Curses..."
I rolled my eyes, trying to mask the unease creeping up my spine. Yes, it could very well be a trap. A trap I had willingly walked into, but I couldn't back out now. This was an event of magic and mystery. There would be dresses, sparkling chandeliers, and who knew what kind of magical wonders could be used to help me find Dexter. I pressed my lips together, squaring my shoulders with a resolve I didn't entirely feel.
"Relax, Berry," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "It's going to work out. Besides, if we make a good impression, maybe the king and queen can help us find Dexter."
Berry groaned, slapping his palm to his forehead. "You're impossible."
"And you're as dull as your unmanicured nails," I shot back, a smirk curling at the corner of my lips. It was hard to stay anxious with my favorite little troublemaker perched on my shoulder.
With each step I took, the air grew colder, an unnatural chill creeping through the fabric of my dress. It was as though the city itself had drawn a deep breath, holding its silence in the stillness of the evening. The usual bustle of the streets had quieted to a hush, leaving only the echo of my footsteps against the cobblestones. Something in the air shifted, and I felt it—a presence, subtle yet undeniable—lurking just behind me.
I hesitated, a shiver racing down my spine. Slowly, I turned, my gaze falling on a creature unlike anything I had ever imagined.
A horse. But not just any horse. This one was otherworldly, a vision of magic and mystery. Its coat shimmered in shades of deep purple, like the fading twilight sky, each strand of its mane and tail rippling with an iridescent glow, as if spun from moonlight itself. The creature's long, elegant horn spiraled from its forehead, gleaming with an otherworldly light, and massive wings—feathered and ethereal—fluttered softly at its sides, catching the dim glow of the streetlamps.
For a moment, I could only stare, my mind struggling to comprehend what I was seeing.
The horse spoke then, its voice smooth and velvety, yet with a regal edge that made my knees feel weak. "My name is Twilight Sparkle," it said, each word imbued with an almost tangible magic. "And I am your fairy godmother."
I blinked, still trying to wrap my mind around this bizarre turn of events. A fairy godmother? I glanced up and down at the majestic, yet absurd, creature before me, trying to process what had just been said.
