One day.
I stood in front of the mirror in my chambers that evening while Camille adjusted the last pins along the hem of the midnight blue gown, silver thread catching the candlelight every time I shifted my weight. Tomorrow I would walk into Ravenspire's full court as Princess Elena, and the trade office, Petra's growing friendship, Corin's steady trust, the warrior whose name I still didn't know, all of it would exist afterward under an entirely different light.
"You're not going to disappear," Camille said, apparently reading something in my expression as she worked. "Whatever changes tomorrow, you're still going to be the same woman who's spent two weeks proving herself in that trade office. A title doesn't erase two weeks of honest work."
"I know that," I said, though some anxious
