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Outside the banquet hall, Prince Armand was plotting, watching...How badly he wanted to be king....
Armand growled cruelly at the laughter of his brother and Nathell. "If they marry..." he thought, "then my chance as king will surely die! I must find someone,but who?"
Armand scratched at his neck furiously,small bugs fed at the life pouring out of him.

Months passed of Nathell and Matteo flowering their love together. In fact,they had both agreed to be wed. However,Armand was enraged,and let out posters for someone- anyone - to get rid of Nathell.

One day,there was a response.
A short woman,with razor teeth, her hair was greasy, limp, and a sickeningly pale yellow. Her skin was green and pasty, and was speckled with infectious,red pocks, her hands were thin, bony, and sharp, her brow was messy and jagged.
Armand was in shock,and had to hold his breath as the stench from her wafted in a warm, thick, disgusting air. Her smell, her look, it was enough to bring a man to his knees.
Which it did. Armand dropped,with a distorted, evil smile on his face.
"So...you're the rogue?" he asked, trying not to gag as the smell entered his lungs.
"Not a rogue,cutie. Not a rogue. A witch." she smiled,her sharp, bony fingers reaching for his throat...
Armand cautiously backed away, taking off his glasses.
"If you want my help..." she smiled..."You will have to pay me."
"Of course. How much do you want? What do you want? Jewels, gold, silk?" Armand panicked,backing into a corner.

"No. I have no need for material things. All I want is..."
She stopped. Her eyes were blackened out, and she was bearing her fangs, razor fangs, to intimidate him.
"What?" Armand was frozen with fear. Solid fear.

"Get me a job. A job serving the king. I'll do it free. Just get me a job as a sorceress."
Armand slowly pulled out of his frozen shock. "Alright. Possible. However, our king is not a pagan."
"Then make me his personal cleric." she suggested in an annoyed tone.
".....Deal." Armand nodded,but still held caution.
"By the way,what is your name?" he asked. After all,he needed a name to introduce her by.
"I have none, but if you must,you may name me." she stated.
"Then....Minatsha. That is your name." he stated as well,sighing.
"Ah, Minatsha. The ancient Egyptian word for 'Deciever'."
"Indeed. But....one problem left." Armand thought out loud.
"And that would be?" she asked,annoyed still.
"I doubt highness would hire you. At all." he looked her up and down,holding his breath again.
"I have a spell for such things. Don't worry."
"Very well." he fixed his glasses. "Tonight...there will be a ball."
"I see." Minatsha smiled. "Would you like to see my better form?"
"Indeed. I hope it's even minutely better than this one." Armand raised a brow.
"Believe me,it is."
Minatsha took out a piece of charcoal and drew a circle on the floor, then a large pentagram within the star. She sat in the middle,and spoke:

''Kòm fòm dlo ak chanjman latè, se konsa va gen kò m 'transforme''

She transformed,into a sexy, tall, blonde woman, her hair silky and soft. Now she smelled of lavender, and had bright, blueish-gray eyes, and an unnaturally-sized bust.
Armand was in shock. She could have been this beautiful?
"Well?" she asked,petting the gigantic mounds that hung off her chest.
"W-Wonderful." was all Armand could grumble.
"I see." she grabbed thick bandages,and bound her body down as she found a spare costume in Armand's room.
"Oh my. Time has flown." He turned and looked up to the clock tower,which let out six, loud, long chimes.
Six o' clock,and all is well.

Time for the ball.