By the time the maidens stepped back, pride gleamed in their expressions like artists surveying a finished masterpiece, and Lillia could barely recognise herself.
Her silver hair had been swept up into an elegant coil at the nape of her neck, smooth and luminous, threaded with fine strands that glittered in the night light like frost. A few wisps had been left deliberately loose, softening the severity. It brushed against her temples and her cheek, beautifully, embellishing her already defined facial features.
The deep, inky blue-black gown clung to her body like a second skin, dusted with faint specks that shimmered like a scattered constellation. It hugged her frame perfectly, before falling away in a long, fluid train that brushed silently against the floor with her every moment.
Fr
