Milady Persona Novels & Stories

What a fool I was to think I was his crown princess when all he does is disregard me as if I don't even exist. As she works on my hair, Kaylla says, "Milady, I guess it might be too early to tell you this, but I hope you have a fantastic time ahead." I’m in awe of her with every touch that she gives, I’m just glad that after that event, none of them talks about it. I genuinely care about her as a friend rather than as a servant. I found myself unconsciously wrinkling the lower portion of my dress just thinking about her passing.

She gave him a tight smile in return, her dark eyes glowing in the flickering candles. Mila was not an unattractive woman. She was prime and proper, her dark hair with a few grey stands in a neat updo. The clothes she wore were fitted and elegant with no skin on show. She was a petite woman with no curves, small and shred. Aurora was her opposite in every way. Vibrant green eyes, long flowing blonde hair in bouncing curls, freckles dotted over her nose and cheeks. My mate had generous curves which she flaunted in her revealing dress tonight - an attempt to butter Teddy up, which was working. She was young, vibrant and the sexist woman I had ever laid eyes on.

I added nothing else and drank the whole cup because I needed to practice wanting something that didn’t obey Valentina. In the mirror I was still the woman she had made, violet-eyed, quiet-mouthed, a cathedral built where a girl used to live. But there was a hairline fracture at the corner of my gaze, a place where a different light leaked. Human. Wild. Inconvenient. I pressed a thumb there and whispered, “Stay small.” It gleamed anyway. “Milady?” Maria’s voice at the door—soft, saintly, dangerous because it had never once asked me not to trust it. “Your dress.”

Unsure what to say, how to feel, but I knew another way to make these people know I was the real deal was to let them see the whole of me, the skin, the beauty, and the power and richness that exudes out of my skin. “No…” I simply said, realizing I’d probably have a little bump by now, she smiled and left my side. “Well then, the lady would love to bathe alone,” she announced to the rest and I could swear I heard someone sigh so loud. I had given them the aura I wanted them to feel successful, and I rejoiced in my heart. “Here Milady…” Simone called, I turned the chair around and she was pointing to another door. I took it to the bathroom and rose to my feet, then walked right into it.

“What’s your name, young lady?” The bald man with the roguish eyeglass leaned forward, squinting at her through a haze of cocaine dust and the scent of expensive wine. Two nearly–naked women drifted around him like drugged butterflies, trained to smile even while dying inside. He exhaled a thick plume of smoke toward the ceiling. “My name is Magdalene,” Lisa said, voice crisp, confident , almost arrogant. She wore elegance like armor; the kind of high-class woman who wasn’t here for pleasure but for business. Deadly business.

I say regally, to no one in particular One of the maids goes to the door while I take care to arrange myself on a single armchair, schooling my expression into a small smile. “Lady Sigmond,” The instructor is a stocky woman dressed in grey attire, hair pulled back in a tight bun. When she straightens from her bow, I take in a bespectacled, weathered face with pale brown eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Ileana Milford, an etiquette instructor for many young ladies in High society. For this day forward, I shall serve as your teacher. You may call me Ms. Milford.” “I appreciate your coming here on such short notice, Ms. Milford.” I say over the beat of my heart in my ears

The makeup on my face was enough to enhance my delicate features, and my usually small lips looked fuller with the bold red lipstick painted on it. I bit the inside of my cheek as I turned to Sasha. “Don’t you think it’s a bit…much? It almost doesn’t look like me.” “That’s the point, girl,” Sasha rolled her eyes playfully as she placed a hand on her hip. “You’re not Mila the nervous chica anymore. You’re Melina the illicit bunny, so you have to look the part. Now, come on.” She motioned with her fingers for me to follow as she began walking away.

Millie then attacked me with winged liner and red lipstick, declaring me her new hair bestie, and invited me for drinks. “We need to sort this out.” Millie leans over, pulling up the baggy-sleeved T-shirt I put on this morning. “I’m going through a restyle. This is my comfy phase.” “Oh. Men want class and something left to the imagination nowadays.” Millie sips her mojito and gazes at me wisely. “You have so much potential, a whole other class of sexy. I mean, have you looked at that hot girl in the mirror today? You’re truly stunning” Millie is another class of sexy, and I haven’t stopped staring at her since the walk over here. I may not have any attraction to women, but I can appreciate t

'I think I fell asleep while talking to Jean last night. I groggily sat up and looked towards my reflection on the mirror. With blonde hair cascading to my back up until my waist, my brown eyes that can capture anyone, the pink plump lips that didn't need any lipstick to accentuate its heart-shape, and my little pointed nose. No matter how many times I looked at this face, I can never get used to this. "Milady, it's time to wake up and eat breakfast." "I'll be going in a minute."

,followed by a smiley giving an impression that he was blushing. My last hour was free, I wanted to leave home early, dress up and then meet Advik. I was equally thrilled as much as I was edgy. I took bus home. I cleansed my face, dressed my hair, wiped off my lipstick with a wet tissue and applied it new. Sprayed my favorite MADAME GRÈS; behind my ears, at the base of my throat , and on my wrists. What defines a perfume’s personality is its sillage: the scented trail left behind by the perfume wearer. In such a case, MADAME GRÈS served the best for me. Most of them neighbouring me liked the fragrance.