The Fall of the Cursed

Isobel

Isobel walks through the crowd of mostly humans towards the bar. Most stared, though they were only sure she was Fae, they had no idea who or what she was exactly. The humans who did know who she was were smart enough to know not to stare, or at least to wait until she couldn't see them. She was at a royal wedding for the humans and as the Fae princess she was obligated to come.

There were only two upsides to going to events like this. First, she was able to dress up and have some fun designing her next gown. The dress she is currently wearing is one of her favorites. A soft green knee-length satin and taffeta gown with flower appliqués that seem to move and look like fresh flowers in a field and seems to defy gravity looking more like a ballerina gown. It is her favorite because it has a low back but a modest enough illusion neckline that it wasn't too risqué for a royal wedding. The second was the free alcohol. Her heels click against the hard floors as she gets to the bar, smiling widely at the handsome bartender.

"Hi. Can I please get a glass of champagne?" Isobel giggles as the bartender almost drops the bottle.

Humans were so entertaining to watch when confronted with Fae, no matter how many times they had worked with Fae. Very few Fae have the same powers or strengths within an affinity, so their auras are always different to the human eye. Where some Fae might like to hide their affinities, Isobel enjoys reveling in hers. As a Fae with a nature affinity you'll always find her with something nature related, even if it's just a bracelet or necklace that she made of flowers or vines.

Isobel had already spent a portion of the evening dodging suiters that care more for her crown than her and she was ready to drink the night away and flirt with some humans. Her parents were pushing more and more suitors on her, hoping one of them would stick but they didn't understand why she couldn't just marry someone. They didn't understand the need for chemistry.

Isobel smiles at the bartender as she drinks from her glass, noticing the stiff young man who walks up to the other side of the small bar. The man rudely waves off the nice bartender when he stumbles once again to ask for the man's order.

"Jamie on the rocks."

Isobel frowns, feeling bad for the poor human. It wasn't his fault the man was seemingly perpetually grumpy. She leans over the bar, giving the bartender a little peek of her cleavage as she reads his name off his name badge.

"Clark? Get me another glass of champagne, won't you please? And don't mind him, he doesn't know how very talented of a bartender you are." She winks at him as he goes to get her another, causing him to stumble slightly.

"Don't flatter yourself, buddy. She's way out of your league. Unless, of course, you like frisky girls." Isobel looks over at the Fae man to see him smirking. She wants to smack that stupid smirk off his face, although she can't stop the laugh that comes out.

"Quite ballsy to call a stranger frisky. Color me impressed. I must ask though, if I'm frisky as you say, what would that make you?" She has a smirk of her own as he looks up from his drink.

Isobel's smirk almost falters as his piercing gaze doesn't leave hers.

"A busy man. One who doesn't wish to waste his time with women like yourself." His eyes finally leave hers and she lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Isobel's smirk slips, "You certainly hold yourself in high esteem." Who did this guy think she was? Just some low-level Fae instead of the Princess of the Eastern Kingdom?

"I do. Regardless of what others may believe, I am a big deal."

Isobel gasps, stepping over to him. "Are you really? Let me guess! Hmm... The leader of a clan maybe? Or the son of one. How close was my guess?" She smirks, taking a sip of her drink.

"Oceans away, my dear." He lifts his glass to his lips. "Now while this conversation has been enlightening, I must bid you farewell, little bird." He turns, walking away from her into the crowd.

Isobel rolls her eyes as she turns back to Clark, ordering drinks for her parents before walking back over to them. If she plays this right, she'll be able to leave and go to a club where she can let loose and forget about the frustrating man from the bar.

Isobel smiles at her mother as she walks up, handing her the drink.

"There you are, dear. There are some people here who you should meet."

She internally groans, wondering who the suitor was this time. "Of course, mother."

Next to her parents are a couple about their age. "Branna, this is my daughter whom I was telling you about. Isobel, meet the King and Queen of the Western Kingdom."

Isobel smiles warmly, curtsying as was befitting not only her own station, but the station of the King and Queen. "It's a pleasure to meet you both, Your Majesties."

Branna smiles softly at her, "The pleasure is all mine, dearie. Oh, you are just so beautiful, isn't she Gareth, darling?"

Gareth chuckles, "She certainly is, my love. And just about Austin's age, too."

Isobel doesn't particularly like the look that passes between the kings and queens before her. So much for getting away.

Branna nods happily, "She is. Oh, you must meet him! He's a charming boy, to be sure, if he is rather rough around the edges."

Isobel groans internally, she can only imagine how horrid this prince must be if even his own mother is calling him rough around the edges. She plasters on a smile, trying to make it as genuine as she can without making herself vomit. "I would love to, of course." Hopefully he was at least something pretty to look at.

Branna looks around, trying to spot her son, finally seeing him. "Austin, dear! Will you come over here darling? There is someone I want you to meet."

Isobel isn't able to see him until he finally joins and is in a state of shock, unable to prevent the words from coming out of her mouth. "You? You're the Prince of the Western Kingdom?"