Fiora's POV
"Fiora, my daughter. Look at the beautiful dress you're wearing, even more beautiful than your sister's," my father greeted.
I painstakingly put on a smile. In the more than twenty years I've been alive, this is the first time I've heard my parents compliment me. Oh wait, was he complimenting me or complimenting the dress I was wearing?
"Father, Mother," I greeted back.
"You really look like a tragedy," my mom commented. She laughed condescendingly. Oh God, if mom had laughed I could have guessed what sentence would have come out of her lips. "A beautiful dress unfortunately can't hide your ugly face. Even this makeup is useless."
"I'm glad you like my dress, Mother. Alpha Brynmor chose this dress for me," I said, trying to ignore the scathing words coming from
