The flash of a flowery skirt. The glint of a myriad jewels. The shine of a porcelain white face clear and smooth as freshly laden snow.
All heads in the shop turned to behold this uncommon beauty who had entered with the cool autumn breeze. Even Titania herself would have envied the elegance of this young mademoiselle. Pale blue dress slippers with intricate embroidery gave way to pearl stockings, which in turn rose up to meet the perfectly pleated folds of her dress's skirt. The dress itself was light gray with thin straps, ruffled trim around the neckline, and accents of pink and red floral designs. It exquisitely silhouetted her subtle curves, enticing the eye to dance across her entire form. Adding to this mystique, a gossamer undershirt flared out from beneath the bodice, its effervescent delicacy giving tantalizing glimpses at her bare arms and collar. Four bands of sparkling diamonds clasped her thin neck, their radiance only outshone by the beauty of her aforementioned face. Only slight amounts rouge were placed high upon her cheeks — her lips needed almost no reddening to portray their luscious fullness. Curls of silvery blond hair rested lightly upon her shoulders, lying in perfect order beneath a shimmering hood composed of the same translucent material as her shirt. Completing the outfit was a tastefully and impeccably composed corsage of red and white roses, affixed to the strap of her left shoulder.
The woman, this belle nonpareil, surveyed the room with her piercing hazel eyes. She gave a quiet smile at the stir she had caused. Everyone, including the wait staff, remained frozen. The usual warm background noises of stirring drinks and polite conversation had ceased entirely. Time had stopped in this tea shop, and it appeared to be waiting for her permission to continue. She gave it. Lifting her delicate hands up to the edge of her hood, she pulled it back and away from around her head. As if a switch had been turned back on, the hum of the tea shop returned. A small pixie in a green fig-leaf tunic fluttered up to the woman.
"Good afternoon madame! Can I assist in helping you get seated?" it asked in a high pitched titter of a voice.
"No, thank you. I had made an appointment for today, and it appears the person in question has arrived before me."
The woman's voice was by contrast low and calm, gliding between words with the grace suggested by her appearance.
"Ah, alright, go on ahead then. We'll get a menu out to you shortly."
The pixie gave a mid-air bow and flew off into the back room. The women smiled again, then began making her way across the room. The old wooden floorboards creaked under the heeled step of her shoes, and even with the background noises the whispering rustles of her garments could be heard. She approached the far end of the room, to a small table bathed in sunlight pouring in from circular window. Here she pulled back a knotted oak chair, sat down, adjusted herself, then fixed her gaze upon the man across her at the table.
"Good morning."
"Morning," I responded gruffly.
I only glanced briefly up from my tea before returning to stir in more sugar cubes. A pixie promptly flew in to hand the women a menu. She accepted it graciously, and after a cursory glance ordered a cup of tea and a slice of bara brith.
"I hope you didn't have any trouble finding this place," I continued, still looking down.
"Oh no, your directions were quite effective, thank you. I do wish I had prepared more properly for this brisk weather, however."
"Hmm, yeah, it's gotten cold pretty quick.."
Out of the corner of my eye I watched the patrons sitting next to us. It was a young couple — fey-folk, it looked like — feasting on the multi-tiered platter of a high tea. Beneath the table was a wiry green dragonling. A leash had been attached to it like a dog, and it sat there at its masters feet in a very canine manner. Every so often the man would sneak a hand beneath the table to feed the dragon a crumb of biscuit. It happily snapped up each morsel, causing it to blow smoke out of its nostrils in gratitude. This in turn resulted in the woman scolding the man for spoiling the creature. I observed this comical cycle in silence for a few minutes until a small band of pixie came tottering out with the woman's food and drink. They placed the items with a clunk unto the table — the woman thanked them with her characteristic tact and began preparing her tea.
I sighed.
"Well, I suppose I ought to explain why I brought you here."
The woman didn't respond. She simply gazed back with an unreadable expression, stirring in her cream with a silver spoon. I forged ahead:
"So, the thing is.. it's about, you know the thing I wrote... about you."
Still no response. She pulled the spoon out of the hot liquid and tapped it on the side of her cup, three times.
"I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. I know it wasn't appropriate. It was cheap, and dirty, and I was just trying to get a rise out of people. I know that doesn't excuse it, but..."
I paused. The woman brought her teacup to her lips, and took one tiny, silent sip.
"...so, I mean... it's okay if you don't forgive me. And you can still think I'm a creep, or whatever. I probably am. You can cut off all contact with me if you want. I just wanted to give my apology..."
The silence that followed could have been any length of time. Finally, she placed her cup down, and the corners of her mouth rose once more in a smile.
"Do you really believe that I was in any way bothered by what you wrote?"
"I— uh, I mean—"
"Do you think that, just because I am a woman, I would be in any way disturbed by your weak attempt at shock value?"
"Weak??"
"I use the internet too you know? I have read things that would make your skin crawl and would keep you up for weeks on end. Besides, you clearly just glanced at my blog and filled in some of the most basic facts you could find, as if that would intimidate me at all."
I swallowed and looked down at the floor. This conversation was not going the way I thought it would.
"So, please, by all means, continue trying to shock me. Continue with your trite prompts to garner your desperately craved attention by your friends on your little forum. It amuses me, really. To know that there is someone out there as pathetic as the likes of you."
With that the woman stood up, leaving her once touched tea and never touched bread on the table.
"I'll trust you to pick up my tab."
I continued staring down at my shoes, face bright red in shame. For a moment I was silent, then I mumbled:
"Okay, Aini, that's fair. You're right. But before you go."
"Hmm?"
Aini turned her face slowly back towards me. It finished rotating just at the moment my fist made contact with it.
CRUNCH!!
Her nose shattered, gushing out scarlet blood onto her once porcelain visage. She gave a shriek and fell backwards onto the floor. I was right on top of her, pummeling my fists into her face with unmitigated fury.
"IF. YOU. EVER. GIVE. ME. A. FUCKING. TWO. OUT. OF. TEN. AGAIN. I. SWEAR. TO. FUCKING. GOD.