The Trouble with the Pears

           She slid the comb into her hair and looked deeply into the mirror.  She was ravishing, in every way imaginable.  Her beauty was violating, ravaging and intense.  It seemed fueled by some dark, hidden spring that ebbed eternally from inside her soul.

          She stood and walked quickly to the other end of the Salon where the untouched tray of pears and tea sat, collecting dust and cooling to room temperature.  She turned around before heading in the direction of the door and looked Maryana dead in the face with an intense severity.

          “Would I make the Devil quiver tonight?” She asked with a seductive smile and a dark glimmer in her black eyes.

          Maryana looked over the alabaster skin of her face and found no visible flaw.  Then, she saw that she had forgotten to rouge her mouth.

          “My Lady, your lips.” She said, meekly and with respect, as not to upset her.

          She ran over to the mirror and looked for herself.  Indeed, she had forgotten to rouge them.  She rummaged through the jar and not finding her rouge, flew into a panicked fit.  She paced steady in a circle, as a tigress does when she is readying herself for attack.

          She walked fast to Maryana and reached out to grasp her right hand.  Turning it over to show the palm that held rough scars of a kitchen life, she removed the long pin from its hiding place in her mane of raven curls.

          “This will only hurt for a moment.” She said, pricking Maryana’s right thumb and drawing out a beckoning drop of deep vitae.  The Mistress squeezed the digit and ran her finger across the quivering drop of blood.

          Her eyes seemed to flare as she rubbed it across her full lower lip and pressed them both together to blend the crimson liquid across her entire mouth.  It was amazing, it shimmered and glistened with a clear fire that made her think back to the ruby, once again.

As she turned, springing her hair into a swirl of dark water, she glanced lovingly at the monstrous window that had lost almost all of its light.  Her gown fluttered her into oblivion as she disappeared into the void of the tower to meet with the crowd gathered below.