Thalia
The makeup artist straightened up. “All done, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” I said, offering a thin smile. “It’s... beautiful.”
I didn’t turn to look; my mirror was still covered. A flicker of hesitation crossed her face, but she didn’t ask why.
“Very well,” she said with a courteous bow before leaving the room.
The moment the door clicked shut, I let out a long, shaky breath. My gaze drifted to the mirror, and for a few seconds I simply stared at it before reaching out to pull the cloth away. I looked—just one quick glance—then looked away again, my pulse stumbling, as though seeing my own reflection for too long might tip me over the edge.
I shut my eyes and forced myself to breathe through the tightness building in my chest before pushing to my feet.
The sapphire gown immediately r
