Even though you were far away from the theater, the agonized screams still pierced through your mind. You had no idea for how long you've been walking; it seemed like the flow of time was frozen in place in this mansion. Forever stuck in a single moment no matter how much time really passed outside.

Which makes sense, since he did say that this is on the border between the fairy realm and the human realm... You thought and cracked your stiff neck. Carefully, you put a finger to where the bruise had once been and grimaced. From now on, I have to be even more careful when going through this place. Although I still don't know why he would go out of his way to heal me. Something about that isn't right.

When you were about to turn another corner, you noticed a painting of Corvin dressed in a dark red silk cloak. The hood was pulled up and he held a white rose out towards the viewer with an eerily placid smile and a sinister look in his eyes. But what interested you was that the rose looked as if it was jutting out of the canvas, almost as if you could reach towards it and pluck it out. Without thinking, you put your hand gently towards the rose and yelped as you felt petals under your fingers.

"W-what?" You gasped and touched the flower again.

The silky petals bent ever so slightly underneath your touch. Hesitantly, you pulled out the flower. To your shock, the rose was in your hands with the exact weight and texture of one. You looked back to the painting to see that where the rose once was is now a black silhouette of it.

You turned the rose once more over in your hand before putting it back into the painting. The rose sank back into the canvas and transformed into a facade of what it was.

Could this mean that he hid the key inside of a painting?

Your hand wrapped around the strap of your satchel as you looked at the portrait. Admittedly, that is pretty smart of him if it is. No one would expect you to put it in such obviously plain sight.

You cracked your neck and walked away from the artwork. Excitement raced through your veins and you walked a little bit faster. You came to the end of the hallway to see that there weren't any paintings featuring a key of any kind.

Of course, it wouldn't be that easy...

You shook your head and let out a deep sigh, running a hand through your messy (H/C) hair. You closed your eyes and leaned against a door. The door gave way to your weight and you let out a sharp squeak. Before you could fall on your face, you regained your balance. You shook your head, dusting off your pants and looked at the room you stumbled into.

It was a magnificent music room with most of its light goldish walls taken up by tall, arched windows that let in streams of moonlight. The floors were white marble with thin veins of gold that were so polished that you could see your reflection in it. At even intervals, dark blue chaises and ottomans were placed up against the walls. Next to one of the windows was an ivory harp and a cello. You walked up to a window and looked up at the moon that hung in the ink-black sky like a silver eye.

Your heart clenched and put a hand over it. Don't give up, you're close to freedom.

In the middle of the room was a well-polished grand piano. It was black and glossy like a raven's feather with ivory keys shining like pearls in the low light. The piano bench seated in front of it was made of ebony with midnight blue velvet upholstery.

Do I have to play Moonlight Sonata? You scoffed and turned away from the piano. As you were about to leave the room, a melody played behind you.

You whipped around to see Corvin seated at the piano. You were about to demand to know what he was doing but stopped when you saw his expression. His face was placid and focused; a far cry from his usually mischievous demeanor. His long and slender fingers gracefully plucked at the keys. The music was low and haunting, like the soft cries of a ghostly bride. You wanted to sit down next to him and listen for eternity. Your limbs felt heavy and you slowly walked towards him. As you were about to sit next to him, you froze up and remembered that this was a trap fairies used to lure humans.

You took a step back and put your hands over your ears and clenched your eyes shut. Your heart felt like a vice was crushing it as every bone in your body locked in place. Fear raced through you like a spider's venom as the melody continued to play, beckoning you to your doom.

Think of something else, come on! Do not listen to it!

The music seemed to become louder, tempting you to put your hands down and close your eyes for eternity. You bit your lip, a sharp pain bursted and your mouth was tinged with the metallic taste of blood.

The melody was becoming stronger; almost as if it was begging-- no, demanding-- you to put your hands down from your ears and listen. Your (S/C) hands were violently shaking.

Think of the key! Focus on the finding the key!

As the last of your fraying willpower was nearly gone, the music finally stopped. You heard a quiet laugh from Corvin and you opened your eyes slightly.

"My, am I really that bad?" He said and got up from the bench.

"No-- the opposite. I would never expect you to be good at it," you begrudgingly admitted, a sharp heat flashed on your face.

"There are quite a lot of things you don't know about me," he leaned into your ear with his hand on your shoulder, his voice husky. "Besides, when you have lived as long as I have you tend to pick up various hobbies to stave away the boredom. Maybe I'll dedicate a song to us and perform it at the wedding. What do you think of that?"

Please don't.

"Speechless, aren't you?" His voice became lower. His soft, cool breath hit your cheek, making your skin crawl. Thankfully, he slowly stepped away from you before you could shove him off of you.

"You have quite a lot of artwork, don't you?" You said. "Especially of yourself."

"It's to serve as a reminder of who's home it is," he answered as he straightened out the lapels of his jacket.

"Can I ask something?"

"Of course."

"You mentioned that you have a lot of hobbies, right?"

"Yes."

"Is one of them painting?"

"I occasionally do some, mostly of landscapes and interior environments." He admitted. "Although I'm not too bad at portraiture, would you like one of you for our first anniversary?"

"No," you bluntly stated.

"My dear has anyone told you're as beautiful as you are scathing?"

"Yes."

"And yet you are still so cruel!" He playfully gasped.

"Anyways, do fairy artists have the ability to put an item into the canvas?" You said impatiently.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean can they put an object into the frame and make it appear as if it is part of the painting. Hide it in plain view so to speak?"

His eyes widened for a moment and he fell silent before quietly answering, "Yes."

"What other things can fairies do regarding artworks?" You continued, "Not just paintings and sculptures, but also music, literature, and so on?"

"Just like in the stories you have about us, we can create music that can put people into a trance and spirit them away," he responded.

"Like what you tried to do earlier?" You folded your arms over your chest.

"I was only doing that to showcase my talent." He huffed slightly.

"And what about literature?" You asked.

"That highly depends on each individual fairy's preference. Truth be told, I'm surprised none of you have spread stories about that-- pun not intended." He said. "But anyways, some like to place nasty traps in which if some unfortunate person opened a book, they're trapped in there forever or until the fairy decides to set them free. Others like to make it so that the book comes to life and attacks the reader, and a few prefer to make it that if you read the words aloud, the story would happen in real life."

"Interesting," you commented.

"I suppose it is," he agreed. "But I have something that I want to ask of you?"

"What is it?"

"What is your favorite color? I think it may be (F/C), but I want to be absolutely certain."

"Let me guess: it's going to be the color of my wedding dress?"

"If you want it to be," he said. "But what I had in mind was the accent colors of the decorations: like the color of the aisleway, the tablecloths, or even the color of the bridesmaids dresses."

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes. I want to make sure every last single detail of our big day is perfect. Even for the smallest things."

"It is (F/C)," you sighed, a cold pang of embarrassment shot through your heart.

"Oh good, for a moment I wasn't so sure." He let out a breath of relief.

You said nothing as Corvin hummed a light lullaby and came up to one of the windows, looking up towards the moon with a slight smile dancing on his lips. His white hair and skin looked even more ghostly in the silver light, making the crimson and gold of his eyes stand out even more.

"What a pleasant night," he mused. "The sky's clear so you can see the stars and it's a full moon too! I only hope our wedding night is as beautiful as this one."

A flash of anger ran up your arms and you clenched your fists tightly. Calm down, he's only doing this to get me riled up and to lose focus.

"I see," you said, trying to keep the venom leaking out.

"Something the matter? Your jaw looks a little tense," the right corner of his lips twitched further upwards.

Yeah-- you.

Corvin sighed at your lack of response and came back behind you. He put his face a little bit closer to yours, his breath tickling your (S/C) cheek. With a closer look, you saw a ruby earring in his ear that glittered against his pale skin.

Like a droplet of crystalized blood against white marble. You thought and flicked his hand away from you.

"Well, I can't say this was necessarily pleasant, but I now have to take my leave," you grumbled and stormed out of the music room.

"You sure you don't want to talk about what's upsetting you?" Corvin called out.

---

While you jogged down the hallways, the feeling of hope was swelling inside of you. Your body was clenched with excitement and relief with only one thing ringing through your mind: just find that painting and get out of here!

Your eyes darted from side to side, looking for any paintings with a key in it. You slowed down and looked behind you. A realization hit you: why would he give you the answer so easily?

You froze up, shock shot through your back before you shook your head, snorting out of your nose as you cursed yourself for overlooking that one detail. An overwhelming wave of frustration and dread overcame you. It's going to be like that stupid wine cellar or that theater...

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A low, rumbling groan came from the back of your throat and you sighed. You sat down on a nearby chair with one leg crossed over the other. If only I had a piece of iron with me, I could just go home without playing this game.

You heard the flapping of wings and you looked up to see a white raven flying over you.

"Corvin?" You called out.

The raven didn't respond as it continued down the corridor, eventually becoming swallowed up by the shadows and leaving behind only a single white plume.

That's weird. Normally, he would have made some sort of condescending comment by now. You furrowed your brows. Wonder where he's heading off too.

You began to go into the direction that the corvid was heading towards. While you walked, you reached for the pocket where your knife was, readying yourself for whatever lurks within the corridor. The only sounds was the echoing of your footsteps and your breathing. The silence was deafening, making each sound worse. As you slowly crept further down the hallway, something bronze glinted in the chandelier light.

Whipping your head, you saw a plaque that read: GALLERY hanging from the wall next to a pair of double doors with doorhandles in the shape of a paintbrush.

"Gallery?" You put your hands on your hips. "As in an art gallery?"

Does that mean it's in there? It might be a trap though.

Your limbs tensed up and your hand reached for the knife. You put your ear to the door and listened for anything on the other side of it. You couldn't make out any sound that would suggest any attackers. However, you wanted to make sure; you didn't want to repeat what happened back at the theater.

You cringed and put a hand to where you had been slashed on the leg. With a trembling hand, you anxiously slid the knife under the door, using the reflection to see any potential dangers. Painfully slowly, you knelt down besides the door and looked down at the reflection.

The angle was disorientating at first, but after a few seconds you got used to it. You carefully slid the knife around to get as clear a view as you could of the room. There was nothing that seemed out of place or dangerous. All you could see was hunter's green wall paper with an intricate floral pattern and five ivory pedestals placed at even intervals on one side of the room. On the other side of the room was a small, round rosewood table with a vase of flowers and a brass candelabra with five lit candles in it.

You waited for a few more moments to ensure that it was safe before reaching for the handle. The metal was icy-cold to the touch and almost painful. You winced slightly before pulling it open. A warm air greeted you as the door groaned and you stepped inside. Immediately, you pulled out your knife and held it in front of you.

Biting the inside of your lip, you took another step inside of the room. Your body tensed, ready for an attack. You made your way to the table, between the vase and candelabra was a pair of gold thin-rimmed glasses with round, owlish lenses.

You turned around and saw that on the right side of the room was a golden plaque that read: OFFERINGS FOR ALL OF THEM.

You froze. Your mouth was partially opened in puzzlement and you looked on your left to the pedestals. Behind them, were five paintings. The paintings were that of a pair of cracked and gray lips, a severed and rotting ear, a bloodshot eye, a veiny and discolored hand, and a cracked nose covered in small scars. All of them were overly-detailed with each grotesque feature carefully rendered, making you feel sick looking at them.

You looked back at the plaque and at the paintings. 'Offerings for all of them?' What does that even mean?

Carefully approaching the paintings, you took in every minute detail of them despite wanting to avert your eyes from them, trying to look for any hints. You put a hand to your temple and closed your eyes in concentration.

Five paintings...

Five offerings...

Wait-- these paintings represented each of the five senses! So I just need to put something on the pedestal that corresponds to that sense!

Without wasting another second, you put the candelabra in front of the painting of the hand and a vase of flower in front of the nose painting. You grabbed the glasses and carefully put it on the eye's pedestal. You winced, realizing that you had to make your way to the music room and put an instrument in front of the ear.

With an exasperated groan, you made your way back to the music room. You prayed that Corvin still wasn't there just to rub your imprisonment in your face. As you walked, you noticed that the Corvin in the painting you saw earlier was grinning even wider.

Shivering, you averted your eyes away from it and began to jog. You could feel its eyes burning on the back of your head like a snake readying to strike.

After what felt like hours, you finally were back at the music room. Immediately, you looked around for an instrument small enough to be placed on the pedestal. You caught the glint of something on your left. Sitting on a table was a long, silvery-white flute that shined in the moonlight like a sword. Your fingers wrapped around the cold metal and you carefully put the instrument into your satchel.

"Why are you back here?"

You turned around to see Corvin a few feet behind you with his hands behind his back and a devious smirk. As he approached closer, you could smell the intoxicating aroma of absinthe, wolfsbane, poppies, and smoke coming from him. It was almost strong enough to make you close your eyes and drop your guard.

"What do you want?" You spat out.

"I asked first," he chuckled, the smirk on his face becoming bigger. His eyes twinkled with a dangerous look in them and he saw the flute peeking from your satchel.

In an instant, he was within arm's length of you and he pulled the flute out of your bag. "My, what were you planning on doing with this?"

"Hey--!" You exclaimed and reached for the flute.

"Were you trying to teach yourself the flute?" He held the instrument higher over his head, his smirk was now a full-on grin.

"Just give it back!" You yelled.

"This is my flute," he corrected. "So I can do with it as I please, not you."

You turned on your heel and looked around for another small instrument. As you were about to reach out for violin, the instrument flew towards Corvin. The fairy's mischief-filled eyes were trained on you like a fox waiting to strike. Turning back around, you reached for a lyre only for that to go towards him a well. Annoyance welled in your chest and you marched over to a clarinet, and the instrument flew towards the fairy.

Every part of your body was boiling with frustration and you scowled at Corvin. He returned your look with a sly smile. After standing in silence for a few moments, he took a step towards you with a gleam in his eyes.

"You know, I'll give an instrument of your choosing to you: under one condition."

"Which is...?" You said, smothering back a groan of dismay.

"You'll have to listen to me play a song with the instrument of your choice and without covering your ears."

"How am I so sure that you aren't going to try and put me under some kind of spell?"

"I could have done that with the piano earlier, but I didn't. And besides, I've been honest with you this entire time, haven't I?"

"Yes but--"

"But what?"

"Who's to say that you wouldn't start being dishonest with me now?"

"You would have a good point, had it not been for the fact that I hold myself to my standards very strictly, and I don't plan on deviating from that any time soon," he countered.

You clenched your eyes and held your hands tightly in your lap, praying that you didn't fall into a trap.

"Fine," you hissed. "I'll listen."

"Excellent," he clasped his hands in front of him. "Now which instrument do you want to listen to?"

"Don't care. So long as I can carry it." You grumbled.

"You sure?" He said and delicately put a hand on the violin. "Don't you have at least an inclination to one of them?"

"None," you answered. "Can we just hurry this up?!"

Corvin shook his head. "My, talk about impatience."

He hummed and looked at the instruments floating in the air. Taking his time inspecting them, running his hand on their surface. You knew that he was enjoying taking his time and that you could do nothing about it.

"I haven't played the flute in a while," he mused and reached out for it. Noticing you relaxing, he quickly retracted his hand.

"Actually, maybe I want to play the violin," he said. "Although I have been playing it quite a lot recently and I want to change it up a bit. So maybe the lyre instead. However, I don't think I'm at an adequate enough level to play it for such a special audience member. Or I can go with the clarinet, although I'm not particularly a big fan of it. Decisions, decisions. decisions..."

Gritting your teeth, you folded your arms underneath your chest. Corvin noticed the glare and softly laughed, he walked behind you.

"Maybe I can play an--"

"Stop stalling and pick something already!" You yelled.

"You know what? I'll go with the flute," he said and plucked the small instrument from the air. "Now please take a seat."

You obeyed, and ironed yourself for what would come next. You squeezed your hands between your thighs and chewed on the inside of your mouth.

"Now what song to play?" Corvin mused.

You were about to say 'I don't care', but stopped yourself, not wanting to give him another excuse to waste your time.

"Mary Had a Little Lamb," you said quickly.

"Seriously?" The fairy raised an eyebrow. "Why not something that's a bit more sophisticated than some silly nursery rhyme?"

"What? You aren't going to play a simple song for me!?" You exclaimed.

"My dear, I will do anything you want me to do, except for that." He answered.

"Oh for the love of-- play Moonlight Sonata!" You shouted.

"Moonlight Sonata it is," Corvin said and with a dramatic pose, he put the flute's embouchure hole to his lips.

The aria was soft and delicate as his slight fingers pressed down on the keys, a tear was starting to form in your eye from how beautiful the performance was. You felt all of the annoyance and impatience slowly sap out of you, replaced by a surreal calmness. You focused solely on the fairy, the world around you was hazy except for him. You were about to fall asleep when he finished.

"Thank you," he bowed at the waist and extended the flute towards you.

You snatched the flute from his hand and exited the music room for the last time.

---

Looking around the room, you saw that there wasn't any food items to present to the mouth. Your heart dropped, realizing that you needed to go back to either the dining room or find the kitchen. You looked at a cookie tin that sat on a dusty shelf. Hope fluttered in your heart and you opened it only to see that it was empty, except for a few small crumbs at the bottom of it.

"Damn it," you grumbled and opened the tea can next to it, only for that to also be empty. Shaking your head, you put the container back on the shelf and moved onto a taffy box.

Please, let this be the rules of three. You prayed and slowly opened it: only to find a couple of wrappers in it.

You threw back your head and growled. You threw the box at the wall and let out a string of curses. Your shoulders tensed in disappointment and dread as your stomach was twisting and boiling. Letting out a groan through your teeth, you left the room hopefully for what would be the final time.

---

After taking a few wrong turns, you finally reached the dining room once more. You reached the doorknob and braced yourself for Corvin and his taunting remarks. Sucking up a deep breath, you opened the door slowly.

To your shock and relief, he wasn't there. You closed your eyes and exhaled through your nose.

Oh thank you God. You grabbed a porcelain plate and ripped off the baked goose's leg and put a bread roll on it.

"I knew you'd eventually eat," Corvin said behind you. "Come, sit down."

You rolled your eyes and pushed past him, not wanting to put up with him for any longer. You grabbed the door handle and pulled on it, it was locked. Gritting your teeth, you pulled on it harder but it remained firmly locked.

"What? Hey, open the doors!" You demanded.

"Only after you eat," he answered and poured himself some wine.

"No," you seethed.

"Then they'll remain locked," he answered coolly.

Unless you give up.

You stood in place and glared at him, not wanting to look at the cornucopia. Putting your hands in your pockets, you leaned against the wall next to the door. The minutes started to feel like days, the delectable smells of the dinner became stronger, making your mouth water. You could almost taste the buttery skin and the soft flesh of the goose, feeling the juices bursting into your mouth as you took a bite. You clenched your jaw set and crossed your arms over your chest. Corvin turned his head towards you, a smile was dancing on his face.

"If your plan is to wait until I finally open the doors, then it's not going to work. You're just wasting time. Time that could have been used for you to look for the front door key." He laughed and took a drink from his goblet.

Clamping your jaw, you sat down in the nearest chair. Your hands reached for the fork and knife, trembling as you cut a piece of goose. You glanced at the side to see Corvin watching you as he took another sip.

"Go on then," he said.

You looked down at the plate, the glistening skin of the goose looked as if it was pulsating in the light. The smell was becoming stronger. Your heart slowly thumped as you raised the morsel closer to your mouth. Your hands were shaking more as it was now barely brushing against your lips. Clenching your eyes shut, you put it in your mouth.

Your tastebuds tingled at the savory juices and the tenderness of the meat before you greedily swallowed. Without thinking, you took another bite out of the goose without bothering to chewing it. Your hunger had over came you, and you piled your plate with every food within an arm's reach. Immediately, you scarfed down your food. You were almost done with eating when you remembered why you were here to begin with. Panic stabbed through your heart and you snapped your head at Corvin; his mischievous grin was curled up even further than before.

"Didn't I tell you that nothing will happen if you eat it?" He sipped from his goblet. "Unlike some of the more loutish of my kind, I don't like spiking or cursing my guests' food. Unless they're a political enemy, in which case, it's fair game."

"Now that I've ate, are you going to finally open those doors?" You grunted.

"Of course," he said and snapped his fingers.

Quickly, you stuffed a bread roll and the plate into your satchel.

"Are you saving that for later?" Corvin tilted his head, his eyes twinkling.

You rolled your eyes and left the dining room.

---

"Here it goes," you sighed and put the plate of food on the mouth painting's pedestal. A soft click came from the door and you walked towards it.

As you were about to reach for the doorknob, you heard the sounds of mouth smacking and heavy sniffing with flute music playing behind you. Whipping your head around, you saw that the plate of food had been eaten down the very last morsel and that the flowers in the vase were limp. The paintings were now completely black, the surface rippling ever so slightly like water.

Your breath hitched and you cautiously looked back at the door. With a shaky hand, you slowly pushed the doors open.