The woman smiled. It was a chilling expression that didn't reach her eyes, a mask of cold satisfaction painted over Marissa's beautiful features.
The girl, Mira, felt her senses swimming from the drug. The hallway tilted and swayed. She tried to run, her steps clumsy and desperate, her feet tangling in her torn dress.
"Someone, help!" Mira screamed. Her voice echoed down the long, opulent hallway, bouncing off the polished wood and velvet walls. "The Grand Duchess wants to feed me to a den of wolves! Please help me! She drugged me!"
Her cry was sharp and piercing. It cut through the ambient noise of the Golden Swan like a knife.
Below, in the main hall, the festive atmosphere shattered. The music faltered and then stopped. The fiddle player lowered his bow, confused. Dancers stopped mid-spin, their colorful skirts settling around them like wilting flowers. Patrons lowered their glasses, looking up toward the balcony with confusion and alarm.
