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In a world where your fellow nobles may stab you in the back the slightest infraction, beauty was a key weapon. Fairness of face and grace of body were useful tools, used to distract and hypnotize as your tongue sliced and whipped metaphorical flesh off unseen bones.


The more beauty you possessed, the greater your chances were that you would emerge an alpha amongst silk clad wolves. But, all beauty comes with a price. With every day of using this born talent, the risk that the gods might revoke your claim to beauty and wither the very tools you use to gain power grows greater.


Such was the law of the Danaan. Such was the way of life for those who flocked the royal court.


And Dana, a woman named after one of the very gods who watched her fellow nobles silent wars, was very aware of the fact that at any time her face might betray her at the worst moment. Even as she let loose another silvery laugh and fluttered her sooty lashes at her circle of competitors, Dana made sure to keep her amber eyes peeled for any hint of the wolf that hid within the flesh of all those around her. Any scent of weakness would have them instantly surrounding the scented weakling. And she made sure to notice if her person was the new target.


Flicking her golden locks aver her creamy shoulders, Dana continued to pretend to pay attention to Lady Georgette who was currently attempting to bewitch Lord Faron with her long gold dusted lashes and her indecently revealed bosom. Really, low cut busts were so last season.


With a twitch of her crimson skirts, Dana prepared to ream into Lady Georgette about her dated outfit when a ripple raced through the hall.


No words needed to be spoken to tell all of what had occurred. The gods had revoked their gift from one amongst them. A wail of horror and agony only made the unspoken words real. And who else would it be than the Lady Georgette’s dearest sister, Lady Jeanette.


Gone were the rosy cheeks, the plump kissable lips. Gone were the raven locks that had been piled artfully upon her head. Shrivelled was her once golden skin and filmy were the sapphire eyes so many had fallen victim to. Dana felt a cruel smirk pull at her lips as she watched others fight the urge to leap upon the ruin of nobility.


Truly, she thought as the women nearest Jeanette began to close in as their eyes began to glow a hellish red, it couldn’t have happened to a better person.


Raising a baby smooth hand to hide the growing smirk, Dana watched as Lady Georgette lost herself to her base urges to converge on her own sister and steal whatever power was left in Jeanette’s ruined husk to feed her own growing hunger. Her graceful poise and her delicate air were gone as she lost all decorum and raced across the room and tore at the other women feasting on the power surrounding the disgraced woman before gorging herself on it.


Dana was quick to ease closer to the abandoned Lord and try to weave her own spell on him, expounding on the look of faint disgust in his eyes for the feasting Georgette. Georgette had lost her chance to raise herself higher, especially now that her more powerful sister fell victim to the curse and was then sequentially devoured by her own flesh and blood. There would be no more chances for Georgette to rise above her station after this debacle, Dana would make sure of it.


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October 2012

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