Lila’s POV
The night feels like it’s waiting. Warm light glows across the room, softening everything it touches. But all I see is the girl in the mirror—the one wearing a dress that doesn’t quite feel like hers.
My dress flows like liquid bronze, hugging my waist before spilling into soft, layered folds that shimmer when I move. The neckline dips just enough, held by delicate straps laced with crystals that sparkle like distant stars. My hair, is swept into an elegant twist, with a few loose curls left to frame my face.
The women who got me ready treated me like something fragile and rare—adjusting, pinning, stepping back with quiet smiles. For the first time, I felt like more than just a shadow in the background. I felt… seen.
I smile at my reflection. Not a nervous smile. A soft one
