Sometimes Marlow felt as if she was talking to the March Hare. Maybe she was, Issac being another part of a wild dream about a magical circus that she would eventually wake up from. The soft laugh died on her lips when he kissed her. She drew back with a tilted grin. "Does this make me the Fairy Godmother?" she asked before settling on yes. With her hand splayed daintily across her chest, she raised her eyes to the ceiling and sighed dreamily, her voice light and melodious as she spoke. "I have always wanted to go to the ball."
Picking up the bottle, she took a drink and rose from the bed, stepping around Issac to face him, grandly offering him her hand. A playful glint flickered in her eyes and she asked, "Shall we practice our dance before we go?"