Ch. 11 - Dances With Bats

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Listen to the song ^^
My Confession by Josh Groban

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'I push and I fall. I rise like the smoke from the embers of hope.'

***

Halfway through our charade, I am reminded of the dreaded ball we are to attend. I've been to plenty in my lifetime and almost all end in bloodshed. A rebel always presents himself by crashing. How could Valentine and Datura just simply walk into a castle being unnoticed? The same questions fly in my mind as I climb out of the shower.

With a towel wrapped around myself, I walk out of the humid bathroom. Valentine has disappeared and a red dress lies on the bed along with a mask and a note.

I trust the dress is to your liking. Be ready in an hour.

- Valentine

I slip the dress on and a smile curves. A slit runs from mid thigh to the floor, fitting like a glove around my torso and bust, held by thin straps around my shoulders. The fabric, a blood red, feels like a secondary skin.

I've always loved dressing up. It's my chance to be someone I'm not. Dresses grew on me by the late nineteenth century. I didn't like them at first, considering the corsets that trapped you and the heavy skirts. I have a splinter of gratitude for modern advancements in clothing and technology.

I pull my hair in an elegant updo, with lose curls hanging in various places, revealing my neck and traces of my vampire bite. The mirror reflects a lie as I turn my head from side to side, examining myself. No traces of any burns, at least not physically. I paint my lids with a smokey shadow and black liner and lips the color of wine. Now, the last step; I sit on the chair as I strap black stilettos on my feet.

"You're quite a sight." Valentine's deep voice broke my concentration as I secure the shoe on my exposed foot. His slow and searing gaze travels from my legs to my eyes making my heart pound.

I give him a devilish smile and stand to my full height. "I get that quite often. Especially of late," I say.

Valentine's eyes twinkle. His crisp black suit complement him very well, his shirt matching the exact color of my dress, obvously tailored - forming around him perfectly. Quite dashing, he stands by the door looking like Casanova himself. In one hand he holds a black mask and in the other, a dark blue velvet box. "You don't look too bad yourself," I comment as I slowly stalk over to him.

"You seem to be missing something."

I raise a brow. "Oh?"

He replies by handing me the velvet box. I feel it, staring into his blue orbs before opening it.

Inside laid a beautiful diamond necklace and earrings to match. Chains intricately weave together with hundreds of diamonds, dripping down - a piece fit for a Queen. "I've had it for years - meant for someone else but she never had the chance to wear it." He sounds to be in pain. It was for Scarlett. Did he really just try to give me his dead lovers necklace? I have the urge to shut it and throw it across the room, but I refrain from such immature actions.

"It's beautiful." My mouth gapes open.

He lifts the sparkling jewelry from the box and makes his way around me. "I want you to wear it."

I watch as he lowers it until the cold necklace hits my neck and rests just under my collarbone - his fingers brushing lightly against my skin.

"You know what this means, right?" I turn around and he looks right at me, confused. "You can't strangle me anymore."

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