The weight of the golden fabric felt strange against my skin, heavy with more than just the intricate beadwork and fine thread. I stood still as the dressmakers fussed around me, pins held between pursed lips, measuring tape dangling from slender necks like bizarre jewellery. Today I would become a queen in more than just name – the crown, the ball, the formal introduction to society as Theodore's equal. My fingers trembled slightly as I smoothed down the skirt, watching how the silver stars caught the morning light streaming through our suite's windows. It felt like wearing the night sky, like somehow Theo had managed to capture constellations just for me.
"Please lift your arms, Your Majesty," the older dressmaker murmured, her voice still carrying a note of reverence that made my skin
