Page 54 of Cursed By Gold

And there, fleeing through the debris amid a flurry of skirts and curses, is a familiar face from my dealings in the guild – Tabitha, one of our youngest and most skilled infiltrators, clearly having been caught in the act of some heist or another.

Around me, the crowd erupts into chaos, the unctuous nobility devolving into a frenzied mob of outrage and recrimination. In the maelstrom, I catch Greystone's eye, his mounting rage simmering behind his own rapidly cracking façade of control.

My gaze darts back toward the escape route Tabitha took, the footman she struck down still lying motionless on the floor. Chaos swirls around me in a dizzying spiral of color and sound, but one thought alone rings clear in my mind – I have to help her, heedless of the cost.

I surge forward, buffeted by the crush of bodies, fighting through that churning sea of silk, jewels and fury toward the door. Just as I'm nearly through, a crushing grip seizes my arm, whirling me around to face my fiance's contorted mask of rage.

"And just where do you think you're going?" he snarls, spittle flecking his twisted mouth.

"I…!" I cry, struggling against his unbreakable hold. " Please, Lord Greystone, I need to check something! Make sure no one is hurt."

He lets out a bark of sardonic laughter, grip tightening until I know bruises will mottle my flesh come morning. "You seemto have forgotten your place, pet. You're mine , or have you conveniently forgotten that little fact again? You do exactly as I say when I say."

Frantically, I cast about for any ally, any whisper of sympathy from the assembled crowd, but there is only blind panic and righteous fury leveled at the absent thief. Tabitha is on her own, as is so often the way in our world.

He snatches my chin in his bruising grasp, forcing me to meet his smoldering glare. "Consider this a lesson, my sweet. You will get these silly, noble whims under control, or so help me..." His thumb digs into the tender flesh beneath my jaw in subtle threat. "It’s about time you learned your lesson once and for all."

My breath catches in my throat, the ultimatum and his implications both achingly clear. With a derisive sneer, he releases me, sending me staggering back a step.

The damage is done, the die irrevocably cast. I am once again bound, my wings clipped before I'd even tasted true freedom. Bowing my head in defeat, I permit Lord Greystone to steer me away from the wreckage and the shouts of the newly summoned palace guards, wisps of smoke from the fallen lantern already staining the elegant scene with twinges of ruin.

My defiance remains, that inner spark refusing to be extinguished despite Lord Greystone's best efforts, banked now, but glowing hot. For tonight, I retreat.

But this battle is far from over.

Touch Her Again and Die

Remme

The crash of shattering porcelain reverberates through the grand ballroom, drawing my attention as a hush falls over the assembled guests. Near the back, a young woman scrambles to her feet amidst the debris, jewels spilling from her skirts in a telltale spray. A thief from the guild, no doubt - bold enough to attempt such a brazen heist here, tonight.

As she flees, weaving through the throngs of outraged nobility, I catch the eye of my bodyguard Sophia. A silent look is all it takes; she gives a sharp nod and moves to pursue the would-be criminal, flanked by two of my palace guards. They'll see her captured and brought to the dungeons for interrogation.

I scan the crowd, searching for a familiar curtain of golden locks amidst the milling guests. But Scarlet seems to have already departed in the wake of the disturbance, whisking herself away before I could seek her out. Disappointment settles in my chest, an emotion as novel as it is unwelcome. I hadhoped to...what? Continue our earlier banter? Unravel more of the mystery she keeps so craftily veiled?

With a frustrated huff, I turn on my heel, striding for the grand entrance. Let the nobility sort out their disarray; I've more pressing matters demanding my attention. But I've barely made it through the ornate double doors when a woman's scream slices through the clamor, raw and laced with panic.

My steps falter as every ingrained instinct urged me toward the sound. I change course, following the commotion out a side corridor and around a corner.

The sight that greets me has my blood boiling in righteous fury.

Scarlet huddles against the wall, back pressed to the intricately carved wainscoting as she fends off the looming threat of a man twice her size, Lord Greystone. His meaty fists are clenched at his sides as he leans over her, features twisted into an ugly mask of rage.

"You'll get those high-minded notions under control," he snarls, flecks of spittle flying from his twisted mouth, "or so help me, I'll beat the obstinance out of you once and for all!"

With a harsh shove, he sends Scarlet crashing back against the wall, her head connecting with the wood paneling in a sickening thump. She crumples towards the floor, only to be hauled back up by her hair, a low moan of pain escaping her lips.

It's that broken, helpless sound that detonates every last shred of restraint within me.

"Ler her go," I growl, the command dripping with lethal promise as I stalk forward. "Now."

The man freezes, his beady eyes going wide with shock and dawning horror as he finally registers my presence. Scarlet sags in his grip, dazed and shaking, as he whips around to face me fully.

"Y-Your Majesty!" he sputters, hastily releasing his brutal hold and attempting to straighten to a properly obsequious stance. "F-Forgive me, I meant no disrespect. I was merely...instructing my betrothed on the boundaries of her position."

He juts his chin towards Scarlet, still hunched against the wall in obvious pain. "You understand how these...spirited birds require the occasional firm hand, yes? A man must keep his woman in line when her fancies grow too lofty."

Loathing courses through me at his sneering, utterly unrepentant words. This ingrate dares invoke my understanding over brutalizing the very woman who has captivated my interest with her poise and courage? My fingers itch to unleash my curse upon his despicable form and rob the world of his stain.

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