"It's something I wouldn't say out loud/If touch could make them hear/Then touch me now"

-Clairo, Blouse

NOMI DUSTED OFF the side of her dress, then briefly touched her fingers to cool jewels of the pin affixed near the neckline. The dress was dark red, velvet, curve-hugging.

She hated it. The way it made her look, the way it made others look at her—it disgusted her.

But such was the way of the Court of Roaches. Being near the top of Circle of Succubi was not a life she would've chosen, if not for the power it gave her. And power was what she craved, needed, and so she complied with her assignments, lay with the men and women she had to, tolerated the stares and the murmurs and the lustful one-overs.

Her assignment tonight was to attend a party and to do whatever the party-goers wanted. So yes, she would attend the party. So yes, she would wear this revealing dress. Yes, she would laugh and drink and possibly sleep with a faerie she'd never met before.

But she had another assignment, one not given to her by the Court of Roaches, the reason that she carried this pin in her dress and a knife was attached to her leg. An important assignment. One that would promise her safety. One that would provide her power.

She walked into the mansion, keeping her face impassive, trying not to show her disdain for the drunken, wild faeries surrounding her. They walked about the halls, arms draped over shoulders, staggering and joking and laughing. They ordered the glamoured servants about. They ate golden apples then threw them on the floor. They guzzled wine by the bottle.

In one corner, three girls that Nomi recognized from her Circle were kissing various parts of a faerie who was draped on a chaise lounge. His eyes were closed, a glass of wine loosely held in his hand. She locked eyes with one of the girls, who did not say anything to her or stop kissing the fae's neck.

Nomi walked on, searching the halls of the house, dodging obviously drunk faeries who looked like they wanted a closer look at her body beneath the dress. She paused in a sitting room to grab a glass of champagne from a servant's tray, then turned and crashed right into a faerie lurking behind her. The champagne spilled all over her dress and the faerie's clothes, drenching the fronts of their finery.

"Oh," Nomi said, looking around for some sort of cloth to soak up the mess, then grabbing a napkin a brown eyed, curly haired servant gave her a moment later. Nomi did not apologize to the faerie. The Folk did not apologize, or say thank you. That acknowledged a debt, which someone like Nomi wanted to avoid at all cost, unless the debt was being made to her.

Nomi pressed the napkin to her chest, urging it to absorb the champagne. The faerie next to her did the same, cursing under his breath the entire time.

"You, human," he growled to the servant, calling her back over. He took off his dark shirt, handing it to her. "Take this to the wash. Clean it until your fingers bleed and only then may you hang it to dry." The servant nodded, walking away at a pace that the faerie apparently did not deem fast enough. "Faster! Hurry," he yelled after her.

He turned to Nomi, murmuring, "These servants are always so dense. They could not clean a shirt correctly if their life depended on it." He smirked at her, leaned in closer to her as if they were sharing a secret. "Maybe I should make their life depend on it."

Nomi blinked, then forced a smile that she thought was conspiratorial. "Perhaps."

The faerie pulled back. "I realize I've forgotten to tell you my name. Carleeze Harpbringer," he said, offering a hand. "But you can call me Lee."

She shook it. "You're the host of this house, correct?" He nodded. "It's beautiful."

"Why, thank you, dear lady...?"

"Nomi," she said. "Just Nomi."

He extended his arm to her, and she looped hers through it. "Care to dance with me, Lady Just Nomi?" His eyes were alight as she nodded and he led her through a hall to a dance floor. She was taller than him, she noticed, especially while in her heels.

The music of the dance hall was fast paced, wild and almost nonsensical. The faeries around them danced as wildly as the music, turning and spinning and kicking and flying. Nomi couldn't even see where the music was coming from due to the choreomanic crowd.

As they danced, she surveyed the room, looking for a door that seemed important, heavily guarded. It was difficult to tell; tall guards were stationed around the large, columned hall, servants on the outskirts of the dance floor with goblets of various drinks and plates of golden fruit.

"I've seen you before," Carleeze said, his hands on her waist as he lifted her briefly into the air. Nomi wasn't surprised by this statement; there weren't a large amount of fae that permanently resided on the island, and most fae knew each other here. "At the Court of Roaches. We spent the night together."

Nomi searched his features. Yes, she did recognize him, his dark hair, his darker eyes. He had bit her collarbone that night, causing her to bleed all over the sheets. The leader of the Circle of Succubi, Veria, had slapped Nomi over it and made her scrub at the sheets for long after the stain was gone.

"Ah," she said simply, allowing him to take her hand to turn her once, twice, thrice. Then she released his hand and pretended to stumble, causing him to grab her upper arm in an attempt to balance her.

"Are you quite alright, my lady?"

"Oh, yes," Nomi said, batting her lashes and fanning air to her face with her hand. "Just a dizzy spell. I think I need to sit. Please excuse me." Then she was off, ignoring Carleeze's offers to get her refreshments, to take her to a bed to lay down in.

Finally back in one of the many hallways of the mansion, Nomi peered around, looking once more for an especially auspicious door. Whatever was behind said door was supposedly important, but of course it would be locked and/or protected. That's what the bejeweled pin was for—it was enchanted to open any lock. At least, that's what the letter she received said.

Nomi turned the corner, eyes searching each door. The letter said the door would be hidden in some way—perhaps behind something? Maybe a piece of furniture? Nomi wasn't above overturning any wardrobes that happened to be blocking this secret entrance.

Finally she came to the end of a hallway on the uppermost level of the mansion. The house was less tidy up here, the carpet more threadbare, the baseboards more dusty. The few pieces of furniture were practically falling apart with missing drawers and broken legs. There were paintings propped against the walls of the hallways, covering the floors of many of the rooms Nomi peered into. Some paintings were covered, some exposed, the exposed ones showing what looked like human depictions of faerie soirées and witch gatherings. Out of all the paintings, only one was hung up, at the end of the hallway: a painting of a young woman with a sword, long, curling hair flowing down her body, sad, tear-filled eyes, round, pink cheeks. She held the sword gently, delicately, her fingers lightly wrapped around its hilt. She wore a loose tunic dress, the fabric nearly sheer and light. Golden tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping down onto her fingers and the sword. Dark, dying flowers created the background of the scene, and, there—in the center of one of the flowers next to the girl's elbow was a key-shaped hole.

Nomi reached for the pin attached to her collar—only for her fingers to brush nothing but the velvet fabric. She looked down, tossing her hair behind her shoulder, pressing her hand to her chest. She lifted the neckline to check if the pin had somehow fallen into the dress, but it simply wasn't there.

She sighed, cursed under her breath. Maybe it fell from her dress while she was dancing. Perhaps it had gotten dislodged somehow and was crushed under the feet of the careless fae downstairs. Or worse, and Nomi hated herself for this possibility, it was stolen from her, some slick-fingered faerie having nicked it from her when she wasn't paying attention. Maybe that strange Carleeze figure had stolen it while they were dancing. That would explain it.

Oh, Carleeze was so done for. Nomi's breath caught with anger at the thought of his smirking, superfluous, uncaring face. She pictured herself storming downstairs, taking him by the collar, and shaking him until the pin fell right out of the pocket he probably slipped it into—oh, wait, but Carleeze didn't have a collar. Knowing the type of fae that he was, he probably was still shirtless after the spilled-drink incident.

Perhaps she should grab him by the neck instead. That'll do.

Nomi turned, began rushing for the stairs to the lower levels, but stopped herself. She couldn't compromise her entire mission by revealing how important that tiny pin was to her. She couldn't make a scene that could threaten her job. She was helpless to stand up for herself, to let her anger shine through.

She let out an angry breath and turned back to the painting. She wanted to punch the crying girl in her golden face. She grabbed the edge of the painting, giving it a hard few tugs, just trying to rattle the wrath out of her bones—and gasped as the painting swung toward her as though performing some sick plot of revenge for Nomi's angry thoughts toward it.

She stumbled back, hand in front of her to block herself from the attack, then stared at the gaping doorway the open painting had made. 

The room beyond was dark, but Nomi was just fine in the dark. Her eyes were well suited to adjusting to nighttime conditions. So, she stepped through the lip of the doorway, and into the hidden room.

She chuckled to herself. How funny that she had lost the pin, but the doorway opened to her anyway! And if not for her anger and her questionable ability to control it, she would have never discovered the secrets of this mansion!

Her eyes adjusted quickly, but her laughter stopped when she saw what was before her.

A room full of boxes. Boxes upon boxes upon boxes. Mostly wooden crates, but some chests, and, wait, was that a coffin? She would have to check the whole room for the item she was looking for, open every chest, every crate—and she knew some of them must have locks on them. She missed that sorry little pin more than ever. Not to mention that checking every box would probably take all day, until long after every faerie at the party retires for the morning, filling every room in the mansion with their sleeping bodies.

She let out another sigh of anger, flicking her hair over her shoulders, and bent down to open the crate nearest to her.

a letter.

hi loves <3 sorry this is a week late, i didn't want to get too behind on writing this lol.

hope you liked it! nomi is a very funny faerie to narrate. she has anger issues and she slays (sometimes literally).

i feel very. tricksy bc i hid some references to certain characters in here. idk if you will catch them but it would be fun if you did.

okay love you all dearly. see you next time...