Aella
Today is supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life, or so the seamstress tells me as she flits around me like a fairy godmother, making sure the wedding dress fits perfectly. I’m standing in front of the floor-length mirror, and for a second, I can appreciate the artistry of the gown—its intricate lace, the delicate beadwork, and the soft glow of the ivory fabric.
“You look absolutely stunning, my Luna-to-be,” the seamstress gushes, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “I’ll give you a few moments to yourself.” With that, she sweeps out of the room, leaving me alone with my reflection.
It’s a beautiful dress, a masterpiece really, but it’s for a life I never chose. The soft fabric clings to my body, adorned with intricate lace designs that seem almost too beautiful for
