Josie's POV

I stand on the pedestal as the seamstress works on my dress. My birthday is tomorrow and the ball is tomorrow night. I don’t feel as excited as I normally do, which I guess is average for when one get’s older. I will be twenty going on twenty-one. It’s quite nerving actually.

I look to Darby, who is sitting in a chair, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. Her gaze distant and dreaming.

I try not to flinch as the seamstress accidentally stabs at my calf. “What are you thinking?”

Darby only moan's a little in thought, and for a second I think she’s day dreaming. “Darby?”

She sighs. “I’m just thinking about the way Jabeth looked at me during the breakfast that one day..”

I grin. “Oh really?”

She nods. But suddenly her smile and eyes drop to a level of great intensity. She pouts out her bottom lip and fold her arms. “Too bad he’s your fiance.. Then I would’ve definitely hooked up with him.”

I almost belt out laughing. Her? Darby Moon. Seducing the cold hearted hypocrite? No way.. ”You think he would’ve agreed to it?” I ask.

She looks at me, a grin on her face. “Of course. What guy turns down sex? None I’ve ever heard of.”

My stomach suddenly feels queasy. Probably those eggs I had this morning. Must’ve been bad. “You think so?”

She nods. “Of course. If there’s one thing I know, is that when a woman offers to give him the pleasure of a lifetime, no guy would turn it down, especially since he would have the advantage.”

I furrow my brow. “How so?” The seamstress hoists up my arms so they’re perfectly straight.

“Well for one. He’s a future KING. He could go back to the Hell’s and forget I ever existed. Two, a male doesn’t hold chances of getting pregnant like woman do, so why must they worry.” She leans forward, eyes dreamy again and her head tilted. “Oh what I would love to get a night with him. His strong, warm arms and his deep, dark brown eyes. Ugh, like melted chocolate! Then his V! Oh my God.. you know that human saying. The deeper their V, the bigger their-”

“Okay, that’s great!” I interrupt her. Maybe most women like talking about a mans genitals. But to me, it’s strange and gross. I don’t get the sexual rush they get from it.

I have no experience with men, unlike Darby of course. It’s been a VERY long time since I’ve talked to a male my age. So trying to imagine feeling sexually aroused by a males manhood. I just can’t see it.. I can’t even see being aroused by a male in general.

Darby sighs and leans back. “He reminds me of a sexy puppy.. cuddly and seductive but at the same time vicious and hot!”

I roll my eyes. “He reminds me more of a cold vampire then a sexy puppy.”

My arms grow more tired by the minute, and soon the seamstress finally lets me go. Darby claps her hands and cheers, “Twirl!”

I laugh and do as she say’s, twirling in a full circle so the skirt flows in the air.

Darby sighs and place’s a hand to her chest. “Oh, my heart!”

I feel giddier then a school girl. I guess that’s what happens when a girl puts on a dress. They feel like a princess. Which I guess I am.

It’s my favorite color. Pastel Blue. Off the shoulders with white, applique lace flowers all over. I love it so much, that I think I will officially name it my favorite dress.

The seamstress gets up, bows and leaves me to strip it off. I get into my usual dress, a wintered pattern sweater with jeans and calf boots.

Have I mentioned that winter is my favorite season? Yes, it is the season of the Hell’s. But I love it. That’s where I got my love of pastel blue, from a photo of winter in our library. The air was bright, and the snow was white. But with a hint, of my pastel blue. It took my breath away just seeing it.

I randomly feel a thought come up. I wonder what our visitors are doing?

“They’re hosting a ball?”

“Yep, that’s what I’ve heard.”

I stand on a pedestal, a seamstress works on a dark crimson suit I model, standing still. Henry and Thad watch from a sofa as the seamstress works on me, poking at my skin and observing with careful and lewd eyes.

I roll my own. Can a woman just do their job without-Hey! Get your eyes away from that! Touch it, I dare you. Touch it an you're dead!

I almost smack the seamstresses hands away, but Thad blurts out a very sudden sentence.

“Do you think they know it’s your birthday tomorrow?”

I look at him, and so does Henry. Who replies, “How could they not? He’s the Prince of the Hell’s.”

“Crown Prince.” Thad corrects.

I roll my eyes. “Whether they know or not doesn’t matter. The ball for tomorrow is to celebrate the first outsiders of the realm to enter the Heaven’s.” I shrug. “That’s it.”

Henry chuckles. “Oh come on. The future King of the realms, his birthday is in 24 hours, and they’re just going to skip it? Come on, Jabe. Have more pride in yourself. You’re a great ruler, you should celebrate yourself for once.”

I snort. “Henry, I do have pride in myself. But I shouldn’t put myself above others.”

Henry laughs. "Ha! Like you never do."

I glare at him.

Thad smirks. “Yet, you're our future King?”

I glare at Thaddeus too. “You know what I mean.”

He grins, “Do I?”

I suddenly yelp when the seamstress, in her own magical wonderland, grabs my manhood through my pants, like a blood sucking leech, observing the fact there is something else down south.

I do not feel pleasure, or even the slightest bit aroused. If anything, I feel disrespected.

I grab her wrist, yanking her hand away and storming out of the room. My brothers laughing their heads off like the jerks they are.

I throw her out of my grip and glare fire at her. But she just stares, bewildered. “You have a very big-”

“Shut. The fuck up.” I command her. She instantly does. Oh my God, I can’t even believe this woman.

“Who do you think you are? I am engaged to your future Queen and I do not like women so you tell me who the fuck you think you are..”

The woman pales and points her finger at me. “Oh.. that’s y-you?”

I just glare at her. She looks only a few years older than me, with light yellow eyes and light brown hair.

She swallows and looks down the hall. “I just modeled your fiance for a dress... I’m s-so sorry. I didn’t know.”

I glare at her. “You have disrespected me in the way I despise most. What kind of woman even does that to a man, regarding his status? That is not OKAY!” I snap my fingers, black and crimson magic curls around them, like billows of smoke with a few sparkles shining within. I snap them again, and they attack on her hands. She squeals and bats it away, like one would try to wave away a cloud. But it’s useless. My magic curls around her hands until they form into a pair of black leather gloves.

“Huh?” She stares at them for a moment before looking to me.

I smirk and clasp my hands behind my back. “Touch me.”

She stares. “W-Wait what-”

“Touch me.” I say again.

The seamstress knows better then to do that, but she does it anyway. Reaching for my-seriously?

She holds out her hand but suddenly stops.

She gasps and looks at me.

I grin devilishly, like one of the Fallen would. The look that sets people hairs ablaze and could create such anxiety.

She strains her muscles, trying to touch me. But nothing happens.

I sigh. “Those gloves I have designed so you will never be in any contact with me again. The magic holds you back exactly three inches from anything like my bodily parts.” I give her a look.

The seamstress chokes down tears and scurries off, tucking her hands against her chest.

Henry and Thaddeus rush out to us, but the seamstress has already disappeared. They look to me, "What happened?"

I shrug, grinning like a demon. "I don't know. It seems like her hands have a mind of their own."

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