Miranda steps into her dressing room, adjusting her hair with practiced precision. She barely flinches as the door creaks open, revealing Aurelius, the elven judge, nervously clutching a clipboard.


    "The show starts in twenty minutes," he says, avoiding her gaze.


    Miranda turns slowly, her smile sharp as glass. "Twenty minutes is plenty of time."


    Before Aurelius can respond, she raises a hand crackling with electric energy. "Do you know what happens to people who disappoint me, Aurelius?"


    The elf stammers, his confidence crumbling. "I—I don''t—"


    "You''ll make me win," Miranda purrs, stepping closer. Her voice is honeyed, but her eyes are storms. "Or the secrets you hold, the ones you think are safe, will burn brighter than any stage spotlight."


    She lets a spark leap from her fingers, sizzling against the metal frame of the vanity mirror. Aurelius flinches, his composure shattering like the glass under her power.


    "Say it," she demands, leaning in, her voice soft but deadly. "Promise me."


    Aurelius, trembling, nods silently.


    "Good boy," Miranda says, patting his cheek. "Now run along. We both have a show to prepare for."


    Aurelius, trembling more, nods silently.


    "And Aurelius," she adds, her voice dropping to a chilling seriousness, "if I don’t win, I can assure you—you’ll spend the entire night as my plaything in my bedroom. Do you understand?"This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Aurelius’s eyes widen, his breath hitching as he nods frantically, his silence betraying his fear.


    "Good boy," Miranda says, patting his cheek with mock affection. "Now run along. We both have a show to prepare for."


    Miranda’s victory was inevitable—she’d made sure of it. From the moment Aurelius fled her dressing room in fear, she knew she had him by the balls, quite literally.


    After perfecting her hair and applying a final touch of lipstick, she stepped onto the stage, dazzling the audience with carefully rehearsed tricks and magic. Her performance outshone the others, but that wasn’t enough for her. Subtly, without a single soul noticing, Miranda’s magic sabotaged every competitor’s spectacle—ribbons snapped, lights flickered, and costumes unraveled.


    When it came time for speeches, she sabotaged them too. Whispers of forgetfulness clouded their minds, leaving the contestants stumbling over their words. By the end of the competition—beauty, talent, and intelligence categories included—Miranda stood untouchable, her cold gaze locking onto Aurelius whenever necessary.


    Finally, the scores were read. Aurelius was the last judge to speak. His voice trembled as he gave his mark: "Ten out of ten." Miranda’s smile was a polished weapon. She won, of course. The other girls were devastated, their dreams crushed, while Miranda basked in the cameras’ flashes, offering false gratitude to those who "helped" her succeed.


    After the show, Miranda distributed oranges as gifts to the judges. Aurelius hesitated, nibbling his cautiously. For Hyper Man’s luck, Aurelius was the one holding the orange containing him not biting the orange—but Miranda noticed. She said nothing, her smirk growing sharper.


    Back in her dressing room, she prepared for the TV interview, only to be interrupted by Aurelius. He reminded her of their deal, his voice barely masking resentment.


    “I fulfilled my part,” he said. “Now release me.”


    Miranda tilted her head, her eyes glowing with amusement. “Oh, darling, this is only the beginning” she cooed, waving a hand. Aurelius yelped as he transformed into a bright, red apple.


    Moments later, Miranda emerged into the night, stepping gracefully into her opulent limousine-carriage. Once inside and the door shut tight, she waved her hand again, returning Aurelius to his elven form. His screams were muffled as the carriage drove away, disappearing into the shadows.