This is a short story written for RewindtheClassics21.  Prompt: write a short story where you put a fresh spin on a fairytale, myth or other classic.

Hwan alighted on the terrace and folded her wings away against the iridescent fabric of her gown.

Through the French doors, she could see the ball in full swing: a circus of plumes and silk and music. At the far side of the room, she spotted Cinderella in the arms of a beautiful young man.

It was a job well-done. Cinderella was so pretty that she was sure to find a man tonight: if not the prince himself, then certainly some other wealthy noble.

"A drink Madame?'' A lone waiter was plying cocktails to the few guests getting some air on the balcony.

''I won't say no.'' She winked and hooked a martini off the tray. ''On second thoughts, let me take two.'' She didn't know how long it would be before she was offered a second round. Then she perched herself on the ornate balustrade to watch the show.

Again there was a flash of Cinderella, her eyes bright with adoration for the man with whom she danced. Ah, young love. So sweet. Hwan envied her; 500 years was a long time to have been on her own. It was hard to secure a relationship when she had such constant demands upon her time, and she wasn't getting any younger. In human terms she would have to be nearly 38 by now.

A nearby door burst open and a tall, good-looking man with salt and pepper hair stepped briskly out. He walked to the edge of the terrace, shaking off his jacket, and rolling up his shirtsleeves to reveal muscular forearms.

Hwan took another sip of her martini. ''Silver fox!'' she thought, the spirits beginning to go to her head. "Rraaawwrrr".

She watched as he rested his hands heavily on the balustrade, inhaling deeply over the rose gardens below.

''Rough night?'' she asked, cocking a brow at him.

He started. ''Wha... sorry, I didn't see you there.'' He smiled. ''Are you also escaping? Hate these things as much as I do?'' Hwan lifted her chin in agreement. She wasn't going to tell him that the real reason she wasn't inside was because she had not been invited.

''Join me,'' she patted the balustrade beside her. ''I can even offer you an untouched drink.'' Up close he really was extraordinarily handsome. His eyes were warm and brown, with ingrained laugh-lines at their corners, his brows arched and clever. He held his mouth slightly asymmetrically, as if he found something perpetually amusing and despite a recent shave, the shadow of early stubble was coming in on his jaw. Hwan swallowed. This man was more than a snack, he was the full buffet.

He looked grateful for the drink and sat down.

''Cheers,'' he toasted. ''It's so predatory in there. I needed a breather.''

''Cheers'' she reciprocated, feeling momentarily guilty about her own predation. '''Why are you worrying?'' she asked. ''Surely a good-looking guy like you was snaffled up way back.''

He looked surprised, then chuckled flirtatiously and took a sip of his martini, his eyes darkening as he watched her over the rim.

''Earlier this evening I was wishing I was, but no still single.'' His eyes didn't move from her face as he spoke. ''My work takes up most of my time and I suppose I just never met the right person.'' He pulled away his tie and loosened his top button, exposing a tantalizingly vulnerable indentation at the bottom of his throat.

For a moment there was silence between them, and Hwan was aware of the tinkling water of a small fountain nearby and the ever-so-slightly pacey beating of her heart. The orchestra and the laughter in the ballroom seemed a million miles away. It was only them.

''What about you?'' he asked, a light breeze ruffling his hair. ''You look too young to have a daughter in there trying to bag herself a prince, or are you going to have a go yourself?'' His eyes wandered to the generous amount of leg peeking from the slit in Hwan's gown. ''Pretty lady like you? I would rate your chances.''

She snorted.

''I have no family,'' she lifted her glass with her left hand this time, ensuring he could see she wore no wedding band, ''just a lot of god-children, and I am sure I am far too old to be cavorting with handsome princes.''

He watched her as her tongue travelled to a drop of cocktail that had fallen just outside the borders of her cat-like smile.

''I wouldn't be so sure about that,'' he answered, his voice low. Then he leaned slowly towards her, his eyes studying her face as his lips brushed her own. ''I think you are breath-taking,'' he whispered.

The dry-sweet of vermouth slipped between them as their mouths parted, and Hwan's eyelids fluttered closed against the prominent angle of his jaw. He was warm, and human, and he smelled so damn good. She could sink into this kiss, she thought; sink into this man for as long as he wanted her. Neither of them were children and yet her breath had not hitched this way since she was a girl.

''I'm terribly sorry, Sir.'' With a delicate cough, a voice beside them interrupted the stranger's delicious tugs on her engorged lower lip. Hwan pulled away to see a blushing administrator in a decorated jacket standing to one side.

Her partner dropped his hand from her shoulder and released a strenuously pent-up sigh.

''Yes, Pietro,'' he muttered. ''What is it?''

''My most humble apologies, Your Highness,'' the interloper replied, ''but it is my job to inform you that is time for your speech.''