Reina got dressed in a gown of the softest blush silk, the fabric cascading like quiet rose–tinted moonlight. The bodice hugged her slender frame, the ribbons at the center tied just enough to hint at delicacy while still holding a subtle regal grace. Ruffles flowed down the front of the skirt like ripples on still water, each layer softly catching the light.
Her snow-white hair fell freely down her back in a gentle waterfall, the pale strands glowing almost silver against the warm pink of the dress. A few loose locks framed her face, softening the natural sharpness of her features. Those deep, hypnotizing blue eyes—blue like the calm before dawn, blue like quiet tides—lifted slightly when she glanced up, and in that moment it felt as though the entire room held its breath. Or at least the maids who were dressing her up did.
