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The man held the letter like it was a platter holding a matyr\'s severed head.

Cora softly locked the doors back and hurried through the cold foyer up the golden spiral staircase. The Manor was silent as she emerged in Rafel\'s wing of the mansion. His master suite was at the very end of the solemn hallway. Aya and Ravenna were still asleep it seemed.

She reached the gray looming door of Rafel\'s chambers, which somehow always appeared to be floating in shadows, and softly knocked.

TAP! TAP! TAP!

"Your Grace, it\'s the Queen. I think it\'s official—it came in a scroll by courier and not one of her crystal ball or owls. Can I come in?" Cora said through the door.

"Always, Corazón," she heard Rafel\'s timber voice shortly.

Smiling and blushing, and thinking of many lustful eye-popping things about the sexy man within, Cora pushed open the door and walked in. She lit on the inside when she found Rafel seated on a comfy sofa. His legs were crossed. Silver glasses framed his amber eyes as they pored over some open tome. He was reading beneath a bluish glow worm\'s magical light.

Was he ever not? Cora thought.

The man\'s self-discipline rocked her to her core many times. She often wondered at it. Not many people who found themselves in his very wealthy and placed position would exhibit such composed trait. His Grace wasn\'t rich. He was super rich. And yet, he didn\'t ride off on horse back to the nearest liveliest soiree, or sail on ship to the newest brothel on some floating isle.

He mastered himself. A true Sigma male.

Rafel lifted up his spectacled eyes and caught Cora staring. He smiled fondly at her.

"Well go on, Corazón. Read it. Giselle isn\'t about to be official about anything unless it\'s a matter significant to the Empire."

Cora lowered her eyes and promptly pulled the bind on the golden bow that secured the scroll. She unrolled it and began reading through.

"Her Majesty, Queen Giselle of House Imperia courteously welcomes you to the opening diamond event to usher in the new silvery season: THE WINTER FORMAL.

This year\'s debutantes from all Houses, noble and common, shall be presented. Definitely not a Ball, the Winter Formal guarantees to merge the high life with the scandalous. Little Birds shall dance for any interested eye. Acquaintances, lost and fresh shall be renewed. And for just tonight, Eros might be present."

Directly beneath was a soft handwritten comment made by the Queen\'s hand. Cora read it also.

"I will be expecting you, dear Israfel!"

Cora frowned at this. She demanded in her head that Queen or not, Giselle show the proper respect to Rafel. He might be an Earl of a humble estate under her vast kingdom, but he was also Apollyon of Hel and King of the seas. She would do well to fucking remember that.

"So, an invitation then?" Rafel stood to his feet.

When Cora didn\'t reply, he caught her mindful expression and pulled off his reading glasses. He moved soundlessly to her. He touched the sides of her face.

"What is it?"

Cora shrugged. But fire danced in the pits of her eyes. "She should give you the due regard, that\'s all!"

Rafel grinned. "Really, Corazón? Oh, my sexy battle knight. You should be a Shieldmaiden. Or better, a Valkyrie. You defend your Lord\'s name pretty well.

I\'m honored. But. . ." He put his hand under Cora\'s chin to bring her eyes to his. "Giselle is the Queen. She hasn\'t called any man My Lord since she was born.

Cut her some slack! And know, dearest Corazón that she sure as fuck knows her place with me. Okay?"

Cora nodded. She gave Rafel a small smile.

"Good." Rafel pulled his hand away. Coldness was a second nature to him. "Leave Aya and Ravenna to their sleep. We\'ll head out for the Castle on our own. Have Mia, our helping fairy, be ready to attend to them when they wake. They can come on to the party if they like then."

"Yes, Your Grace." Cora bowed.

Rafel gave her a look. "Pffft, Corazón. You\'ve seen my cock. I don\'t expect such engraven courtesy."

Cora didn\'t fold.

"Alright! Whatever you want." Rafel conceded. "I expect we\'ll be leaving by dusk."

"Yes, Your Grace. I\'ll prepare the carriage and have Menelaus cool his fucking flaming head."

Rafel laughed.

"Yes please, do that."

He didn\'t fail to catch on Cora\'s joke. Menelaus was a literal [Ghostrider], and had been slightly offput ever since his Aunt Lilith abandoned him on the grounds of Emberfall back when she\'d returned to Hel. Imagine a giant dude with a flaming skull for a head pulling up to Her Majesty\'s party?

That would surely turn heads. Even more than the debutantes of the season.

Rafel turned his gaze back to the present. Rather than walk out, Cora sauntered to his great dressing area and began sifting through his tunics, and doublets, and windbreakers and trenchcoats; all in varying shades of black. But still black. She looked for the perfect suit for the occasion.

The Winter Formal was sure to be packed. And she wanted her Lord as the best dressed Noble to the event. She wanted him turning fucking heads!

Rafel smiled at her womanly touch in his suite, and didn\'t stop her. He wore his glasses back on and went back to his reading. Cora was the only woman he\'d trust with his clothing.

Aye! Only his Corazón.

[ Hypnodancer – Little Big.]

The Winter Formal was set for nightfall. The reign of twilight, when the shadows and sunset mixed just the perfect blend. Under the slow whistling of the arctic wind and beneath a gray silver sky, ashen but full of clouds, Lords and Ladies of high standing in the vast realms of Eldoria made their way as a flow of fine carriages through the stately pines that grew in evergreen bust around the castle.

The chestnut trees were just beginning to gain a coin\'s coppery color.

A belly dancing group of seven endowed young women entertained the hall for the event when Rafel and Cora walked in. She had her arm hooked around his. He was her chaperone for the night, even though her dressing was nothing ladylike. Cora had donned on figure-hugging wine pants and a white shirt that revealed her navel. The only thing remotely femme-fashionable about her perhaps was her heels.

"A beautiful gathering, Your Grace," she remarked as they took stance behind the circular crowd eagerly watching the belly dancers.

The enchanting troupe wiggled their hips to the sound of preppy live music. Their material of their silvery wrappers were heaped about their fair hips. As they jigged, the pristine robes billowed like sails in the wind. Slits that ran up the back of their flowing skirts heralded a skin made of caramel.

"Foreigners. . ." Rafel nodded in the direction of the dancers. "Islanders, I\'m guessing. See their complexion? How it\'s neither dark nor light, but in between—like a ripe hazelnut.

And the little dots on their foreheads. A third eye, it is called. On the isles, curves grow on women like the branches on trees. They move like water."

Rafel stared with Cora for a silent moment, along with the entire crowd. What the Noble Lords of Eldoria couldn\'t make of the island girls mild nudity, they imagined in their heads. Their dance was enchanting as they twirled and bended their supple bodies fluidly, almost to bone-breaking wiggling.

"You think we can interest them in a private showing, my Lord?" Cora glanced at Rafel.

He smiled. "Our money can."

Cora noticed the emphasis he placed on the \'our\' in his statement, and she turned back to the girls.

"I bet the Queen put in some good coin to get them shipped all the way out here? Do they even speak the common tongue? I hear it\'s all forest and sun out there."

"Yes, I did. Yes, they do. And no, they have more than just forest and sun out there. Beware, Champion, that\'s a little racist!" Giselle\'s sudden intrusion hit along with her voice.

Cora did a doubletake and wondered how long the Queen had been standing there. She was right next to Rafel, on the other side of him. Because of Rafel\'s toned and perfectly sculptured big body, Cora had to bend forward an inch to actually lock eyes with Giselle\'s golden fae ones.

"No, I don\'t think it\'s racist, Your Majesty. Maybe a stereotype of the bronze-skinned tribes. Good Evening, Your Majesty. It\'s such a lovely party!" Cora greeted.

For Rafel\'s sake, she let a smile shine through.

Giselle scoffed and threw out her fair hand. The motion drew Cora\'s frigid gaze—almost as cold as the wind outside—to her ostentatious flowing robes. All smart gold. Just like her eyes.

"Please, Corazón," the Queen replied. "—it has to be. It\'s The Winter Formal. There are many pretty girls here tonight. Plenty from good backgrounds and of noble blood too. I\'m sure you can see the tits from here to my very chambers!

But also. . .within this grand hall of snows are the diamonds in the rough. Maidens of subtle heritage. I intend to make my picking tonight of the Belle of the Winter Season, who shall be crowned Lady of Snows. Mind you however, I do not have eye only for the daughters of the crème de la crème.

But also for the lowly and country.

After all, in the Winter Formal, even a wallflower can bloom."

To the Queen\'s long speech, Cora only uttered a curt reply.

"Cora. It\'s Cora! Your Majesty."

Giselle gave her a narrowed look. Cora didn\'t blink. Only Rafel could call her Corazón. She liked the bass ringing in his voice when he said it. But somehow, when the Fey Queen did, she made it sound like the name of a pet goldfish. Cora wasn\'t about to let Rafel\'s right be tainted by a Fae\'s prized lips.

Sensing tension, Rafel quickly changed the subject. His amber eyes were still on the curvy belly dancers as he said,

"Where\'s the Countess?"

Giselle chuckled. "You presume because she\'s my bestfriend, we\'ll be attached at the hip?"

Rafel turned his gaze down to her slowly. Literal flames pooled in his pupils.

"Relax!" Giselle piped. "I\'m just messing with you. Delia and I are attached on more than just the hip—you know that. But to answer your question, dearest Rafel, she\'s over there. . .with her husband."

"Her husband?" Rafel and Cora both toned at the same time.

It earned a fresh chuckle from the Queen.

"Yes, her husband." Giselle affirmed. "You know, The Count?! Lucius Penderghast."

"I always assumed he was a tombstone in her backyard," Rafel said coldly.

Giselle fluttered her long, blonde lashes.

"Nope. He\'s just fat. . .and boring."

The live music clipped to a stop in a dramatic flair and the belly dancers finished in a wonderful collective pose. The Nobility in the house lauded their performance, and more than a few stray eyes\' followed the young women from the center of the hall and out the room.

Giselle turned fully sideways and looked up at Rafel.

"I miss you, Your Grace. I rarely see you these days. Perhaps, I should find a new rebellious city to destroy if that would get us to spend some time together, hmm?"

Cora\'s mouth fell open. Rafel said nothing. Both of them weren\'t sure if Giselle was just joking or being serious. It seemed a lot like the latter.

Giselle continued, "I hear the country lassie is back. The one with the striking green eyes? Err—"

"Ravenna," Cora curtly finished for her.

"Yes, Ravenna de Vries." The Queen cemented.

Rafel looked Giselle straight in the eye for the first time all night.

"HOW did you hear this?"

"I have a cousin over at the Witch Academy. I myself attended—but I didn\'t finish." A darkness cloaked her golden irises. ". . .my poor daddy had to go and fall off his horse. I returned to the Capitol to care for him.

Shortly after, I was coronated. Not much schooling afterward, hah!

Speaking of which, I would like to introduce to you said cousin. Dearest Rafel, most noble Earl and my esteemed villain, please meet Percival Malfoy the Third, first cousin on my father\'s side."

Just then, the Countess Cordelia finally pulled away from her husband\'s corny jokes and walked towards a much better and beautiful company. She reached Rafel clutching her daughter\'s hand.

"Oh, and here also. . ." Giselle continued her introduction. "This lovely young bird is Brunhilda, Delia\'s only daughter."

Rafel looked at the presented kids. He was sure the same question lurked in both their tiny heads.

How was this man the infamous enigmatic Earl of Emberfall, when he literally looked their age?

Downwards of twenty years?

Rafel looked first to the boy, Percival.

\'So this was THE Percival from Ravenna\'s letters. Handsome, no?\'

He was taller and bulkier from his days in Hel\'s arena. Percival was built leaner, like a librarian. He was blond as his cousin, the Queen. And they shared the same gold in their eyes.

Percival stretched out his right hand.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Grace."

Rafel nodded. He took Brunhilda\'s hand next. The girl was as warm as her mama. But lacked the utter depravity in her eyes. The bust too!

Rafel noticed.

Brunhilda Penderghast was an innocent, Goth girl.

"Very honored to meet you, Sir." She blushed.

"I am no Knight," Rafel said simply, his voice so dark even Percival coughed. "My Little Raven has told me much about you. I\'m glad she\'s made friends from school."

Rafel didn\'t need put emphasis on his monicker for Ravenna. Percival got it: he\'d be better off—and alive removing any funny ideas of Ravenna from his blond head.

Rafel looked over the kids heads to share a secret smile with Giselle and Cordelia. Brunhilda turned back to her mother with a questioning look in her eye. Percival narrowed his gilded eyes quizzically at his cousin. Rafel didn\'t give a shit. It was up to both the Queen and Countess to explain or not explain the details of their relationship.

The silence began to stretch and Cora politely poked her head into the circle of Royals.

"The waltz has begun!"

[ WALTZ: Young and Beautiful – Voiceplay ft. DeeDee.]