Preparing for the ball had been easy, a simple spell was casted and she was dressed in a very old fashioned ball gown. “A classic.” She grinned, staring at herself in the mirror. Her brown hair had been pinned up into a loose bun so locks of hair fell about her face and neck. Her crimson gown had a neckline that scooped and revealed a generous amount of décolletage, more cleavage than a proper Christian would agree to. The real show stopper hung around her neck and had more sparkle than all the stars in the sky. Diamonds dripped down her neck and into the crevice between her heaving breasts. 

“Need’s more.” She breathed, lightly drawing her fingertips across her cheekbones, temple, and around her eyes in small swirls and lines, black ash followed her movements until she had her mask set. Amelia licked her lips, and they turned a dark red that matched her dress. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, darkening her lashes then ran her hands over her hair as if to catch any fly always, and it turned ink black under her touch. “They want a witch, they’ll get a witch.” She smirked and picked up her gloves.

When she stepped outside, her carriage was already waiting. Gibli opened the gate for her, then the carriage door, bowing as she entered and settled herself within it. With a shot crack of the reigns, the two large looming mares began at a steady pace and in a matter of minutes they had arrived at the estate. She gave herself time so that plenty people would have the honor of witnessing her entrance. The gathered coachmen and stable boys gawked at the large menacing mounts. Amelia laughed softly to herself; if only they knew that her horses were that of the apocalypse.

Gibli handed her out of the carriage, and this time, Amelia carried an item under her arm. “Have the stable boys keep watch of my carriage, you will stay as a feline and roam the halls [i]discreetly[/i] You will also take this.” She pressed a doll to his chest until he tucked it under his own arm. “Give it to a child, I don’t care who.” she stared him dead in the eyes, making sure he knew his orders. He nodded quickly and set off to accomplish his tasks. 

Her grand entrance was amusing, to say the least. She had managed to startle the Harold. “Good evening.” Amelia said cooly, staring down at the guests at the foot of the stairs and swaying around the dance floor. They all mingled and laughed in their little groups, gossiping about who knows what. The Harold turned his head and visibly jumped to his toes. His face reddened and he cleared his throat and without her having to identify himself, he made the announcement. “Lady Amelia Vanderbilt!” The room fell silent and the music died off in the distance. You could say she had the crowd bewitched. Having pale skin really paid off when it came to vibrant colors. She slowly descended the stairs, keeping a knowing smile in place. “Oh my, have I interrupted something?” she asked as she approached the host and wife of the party. They sat up in their plush chairs, handing their drinks to their faithful butler. “Lady V-Vanderbilt-“ the man choked over his words, his eyes continuously drawn down to her chest. The wife had no problem staring, though and only blushed when she met Amelia’s eyes. Mrs. Lemmingworth rolled her eyes and looked at her husband, revealing the pin nestled prettily in her hair. “He’s had a few drinks. What he’s trying to say is that we hope you have a splendid time here.” She said stiffly and picked at invisible threads on his overcoat. Amelia curtsied deeply “Of course, you have always hosted the most impressive balls in London.” The room hummed with whispers behind her, as she righted herself and plucked a drink from the tray of still caterer, sauntering into a new group. The music began again and the voice level rose considerably. Amelia chanced one last glance at Mrs. Lemmingworth and her hair pin before smiling into her fluke and downing the rest of it in a large gulp. 

As his mistress had commanded, Gibli had ordered one of the stable boys to care for the carriage in his absence and all it took him was a raggedy doll and a few coins. The rest of the night he would watch over the crowd from the foggy windows and make sure Lady Vanderbilt’s plans went according to plan.

“I wonder what spectacles Annie has set up for tonight?” Carol giggled into her 3rd glass, sipping from it once more before setting it on the side table. Gloria and Amelia sat in one of the many open lobbies, on a very plush gray couch imported from some exotic country. “Anne Lemmingworth would never fail her guests.” And as if on cue, the main ballroom grew louder with shouts and cries of astonishment. 

Gloria gasped and shot to her feet, fleeing to the ballroom to see what all the commission was about. Amelia smoothed her hands over her gown, and with the serenity of a lake, she rose to her feet and followed the shrieks and cries that erupted from the next room.

Gloria was not disappointed, although, maybe she was a little frightened. Poor Annie popped up above the crowd then fell, less than gracefully, back into the crowd. Upon closer inspection, you could see that she was moving in a very unnatural way. Her arms flailed about, uncontrolled and her legs dangled limply beneath her. 
“She’s levitating!” 
“By Gods!”
“Someone help her!”
“She’s cursed!”
The people cried simultaneously, but Amelia remained silent, watching as Annie rose above them, hovering over their heads, even knocking a few heads with her heels until they fell off into the crowd. Annie was still very much aware of what was happening, in fact, she was the loudest screamer in the room. She wailed and shrieked for help as she whirled around the room. Obviously everything but her ego was unharmed, but the woman continued to release blood curdling screams. Amelia gigged into her hand and shook her head. “Well done Gibli.” She sighed under her breath. 

Although so many eyes were on their hostess, no one seemed to notice the shimmer, glowing, golden hairpin in poor Mrs. Lemmingworths hair.