Clara’s p.o.v
The steam from my personal vanity mirror was still clearing, but the reflection staring back at me was already a disaster. My liquid eyeliner was uneven. My extensions weren't sitting flush against my crown. I had spent forty minutes trying to erase the dark circles under my eyes, but no amount of high-definition concealer could hide the fact that I hadn't slept more than two hours since we landed in Colorado.
"Clara, honey, you need to step into the dress," my mother said, knocking gently on the cedar door of the master dressing suite. "The event coordinator says the lighting technicians are already testing the illumination on the frozen lake. The guests are descending."
"Five minutes, Mom!" I snapped, my voice cracking slightly.
I slammed my luxury setting spray down on
