Sophia
I had always imagined beauty as something distant, something that happened to other people, women born into privilege, royalty, women whose very existence seemed touched by moonlight.
I had never once associated the word with myself. At best, I could say I looked presentable on good days, maybe even cute on very lucky days. But what stared back at me from the mirror was not “cute.” It was not “presentable.”
It was breathtaking.
I stood frozen, my fingers lightly touching the bodice of the gown Erick had gifted me, deep silver with threads that shimmered like starlight, embroidered with delicate patterns of crescent moons and wolves running along the fabric.
The skirt flowed around me in layers that seemed to ripple like liquid light with each tiny movement I made.
My hair h
