Speaking of overdramatic...
Lightning sizzled, and the ground shook under the intensity of the rulers' gazes. The girls at the foot of the throne cringed, and Oberon's guards grasped the hilts of their swords. A branch snapped nearby, barely missing the harp girl, who cowered under the trunk.

"Very well, husband." Titania's voice was as cold as ice, but the wind gradually died and the earth stopped moving. "As you command. I will not harm the half-breeds while they are within the court."

Oberon gave a curt nod. "And your servants will not do her ill, either."

The queen pursed her lips as if she'd swallowed a lemon. "No, husband."

The Erlking sighed. "Very well. We will speak on this later. I bid you good-night, my lady." He turned, his cloak billowing behind him, and left the clearing, the guards trailing in his wake.

Isiea sighs exasperatedly. She finally takes out her glasses and puts them on, so that she can find her contacts.

There was a word to definitely describe people like him...but Lise would think of it later.

Titania glared at the girls if hoping the blood would boil in their veins. "Well, you heard His Majesty, half-breeds," she cooed, her voice laced with poison. "Get out of my sight before I forget my promise and change you into a snail."



(Up for a timeskip?)

(sure)

Lise shot a glare at Titania, before promptly leaving the court.

,, Tight-[butt*] ,, She grumbles, following her sister.



(* From now on, when Isiea curses instead of a beep therell be a synonym)

(Okay, that's fine!)

Then, three days later, they had visitors.

The door to their new room swung open abruptly, streaming light into the room, and three faery knights walked in. Long silver hair, pulled into simple ponytails, glimmered in the dimness of the room, and their faces were haughty and arrogant.

They led the girls through the twisting brambles to yet another door, opening it without preamble. They walked into a small bedroom, not nearly as fancy as their first, but nice enough.

Muffled clops were audible on the carpeted floor, and a pair of satyr girls entered behind a tall, willowy woman with pure white skin and straight raven hair. She wore a dress so black it sucked in the light, and her fingers were long and spiderlike.

But before either of them could say anything, the tall woman swept up and grabbed them, holding their chins in her bony fingers. Black eyes, with no iris or pupil, scanned their faces.

"Filthy," she rasped, her voice like silk over a steel blade. "What plain, dirty little specimen. What does Oberon expect me to do with this? I'm not a miracle worker."

She reminded Lise strongly of a spider, Although she didn't appreciate how she touched them.

Isiea glares at her. She doesnt want to be here in the first place. Shes spent most of her time with Ares and directly avoids everyone else.

"I am Lady Weaver, and you will listen to me carefully. King Oberon has asked me to make you presentable for Elysium tonight. He will not have his half-breed daughters parading around in peasant rags, or worse, mortal clothes, in front of the Unseelie Court. I told him I would do my best and not to expect miracles, but we shall try. Now--" she gestured to the side room "--first things first. You reek of human, troll, and blood. Go take a bath." She clapped once, and the two satyrs trotted around to face the girls. "Trinity and Clarissa will attend you. Now I must design something for you to wear that will not make a laughingstock of your father."