The Fae Prince looked nothing like Michelle had imagined. Though the rest of the waltzing room and its visitors bathed in colors and light, darkness clung to the fairy ruler like a well fitting suit. Devoid of her glasses, she had trouble to make him out at first. It was only because of Ghislaine's 'Turn around and bow to the Prince," that she had known who he was.

There was no throne, not even a dais, but a dark alcove in which he stood, flanked by an intricate candelabra with over a dozen bent arms and an owl on a tree stump.

It was not just any owl; Michelle was fairly certain it was an Ornimegalonyx, a flightless bird believed to be extinct over six thousand years ago and the largest owl that ever lived. She estimated the owl seated next to the Prince to be about three feet tall.

"Let me take a look at you," he said as he stepped toward her, his voice not unpleasant and his earthy scent unexpectedly familiar.

He tipped up her chin with his finger. She winced but was immediately shoved back closer his way by Ghislaine's steady hand in the small of her back.

What were they up to?

Suppressing a shiver, she looked up into the Prince's eyes and was met with a cool shade of slate gray. His fingers brushed along her hairline tentatively and pushed back the hood of her raincoat. Upon taking her in, his mouth twitched, drawing attention to a minuscule scar in his bottom lip. "What are you doing, wandering in my woods?" he said huskily, "Don't you know you shouldn't come here?"

What was she to say? She had been warned, both by her grandfather and by Ansel, but she feared that confession wouldn't be in her best interest, so she blurted out the first forest activity she could come up with. "I was gathering mushrooms."

He narrowed his eyes. "Three miles from the only human trail into the forest? That's a long way for mushrooms."

"I ... I got lost and then I got intercepted by ... uhm ... Leon and his brothers. I'm sorry if I've caused offense. I didn't mean ..."

"Cute, a liar. Pray tell me, what's your name?"

"Michelle."

"Welcome, Michelle. Liar or not, you're our guest now and all guests are cordially invited to our midnight ball. Ghislaine, get Michelle a pair of dancing shoes and perhaps a gown too, something in the same red as her coat."

He took her hand and led her toward the dark alcove, swiftly bringing his mouth to her earlobe to whisper, "I like that color on you."

Michelle's heart rate spiked out of control. What had she gotten herself into? The man by her side knew she was lying. He wielded power over every creature present, creatures with skill sets she had yet to understand but clearly exceeded her own. The way he conducted himself, touched her ... as if he owned her. All of this combined, translated to bad news, very bad news indeed, and the absolute worst was in the way he spoke to her.

His voice ... it made him irresistible and her lightheaded.

In passing of the owl, he yanked her close enough for her to feel his warmth through her coat. "Beware of Strix, he needs his space," he said, and then twirled her around to sit on one of the stools surrounding a simple wooden table in the dark of the alcove. "Allow me to serve you a drink, Michelle!"

Though his voice was enticing, the purple liquid in the carafe looked suspicious and Michelle's gut squirmed in alarm. "That's not necessary. I'm not thirsty."

He fixed his cool eyes on her. "My hospitality is not optional, Michelle."

She was in so much trouble.

To her surprise, he filled two glasses, gave her one, and held up the other for a toast. "To liars! May we be them. May we see them. May we know them." He chugged his drink and grinned like the Cheshire Cat. She had to follow suit.

He had drunk from the same carafe and hadn't dropped dead. Not entirely reassuring but it was something. It didn't smell bad. Like violets and candy. She forced a smile on her face, still thinking of ways to decline.

"Bottoms up, Michelle!"

That voice ... she found herself unable to deny it such a simple request. All her cautious contemplations were rendered insignificant by her body's desire to comply. She emptied the glass in one swig.

As she had suspected, the drink made her even more lightheaded but apart from that, the Prince was perfectly amiable. He answered all her questions about his owl and complimented her on recognizing the species. Not even Ghislaine had guessed this when she had arrived at court many years ago and Ghislaine was the most intelligent Fae he knew.

"You're very pretty, Michelle," he said, "I hope you like to dance."

She giggled. What the heck was wrong with her? She never giggled and now she was blushing too. She could feel the heat traveling up her cheeks. "I do but I'm not very good at it. Two left feet, my mom always says."

"I'm sure you don't do yourself justice, Michelle. I'm prone to believe you're an excellent dancer. Ah, there's Ghislaine with your dress."

Ghislaine entered the alcove with a pair of high heels and a red cocktail dress.

"Excellent!" The Prince stood and pointed to a secluded part in the back of the alcove. "I'll give you girls some privacy."

Michelle didn't look forward to change in the presence of mind-reading Ghislaine, but her body craved the dress like it had the drink. The color was exquisite, the fabric smooth satin, and the cut very promising. A low-cut bodice and a flounced skirt, a single black flower at the waist. It was extremely pretty.

She shrugged out of her coat and remembered the Prince's approval of seeing her in red. "Why is the Prince dressed in black and everybody else in bright colors?"

Ghislaine took her coat and turned her back on Michelle so she could change into the dress. "Please get on with it! I don't want to miss the opening. The string orchestra is tuning already."

"Changing as fast as I can but won't you tell me? I have no bad intentions. I'm only curious."

"As if I didn't know that already? It's always nosy people like you, human, who mess things up. Every single time. Instead of happily living your life in your realm without any disturbance from us, you come out here and stir up trouble. Next thing you know, we're burning daisies. Really ... I don't have time for this."

Michelle sat down to change her shoes. "I'm not nosy. I'm curious. There's a difference. And I won't be burning any daisies, I promise."

Why would anybody? Michelle was confused.

"Promises are like a summer's breeze, fleeting. Are you ready?"

"I'm not sure. These heels. I can't even walk in heels, let alone dance."

"Well, don't I just have the trick you need!" Ghislaine retrieved a vial from her pocket, squatted in front of Michelle, and poured the contents over her feet and into the shoes.

To Michelle's horror, the liquid dried up immediately and when she bent down to touch it, she discovered that her feet were glued into the shoes. Her heart responded by racing so fast, she wanted to throw up.

"Sorry, human girl. Genuinely sorry," Ghislaine said, "but you were snooping around where you shouldn't and now you will suffer the consequences. As much as I will detest watching it, it's not in my power to change the rules."