Page 46 of Tower of Ash and Darkness
I stand before the mirror, letting the gown slide over my skin. The smooth satin clings to me in a way that feels like armor. Its high collar elegantly frames my neck, while the plunging neckline cuts daringly low, exposing the curve of my breasts and leaving little to the imagination. There’s no subtlety in its design—it was made to command attention. The fitted bodice hugs my waist, flaring into a full skirt that swirls around me with every step, reflecting the light like the facets of a gemstone. It feels alive, as if it has its own intentions.
As always, a matching pair of gloves are laid out beside the mirror, waiting to conceal the things that make me monstrous.
Sera moves behind me, her fingers brushing the back of my neck as she adjusts the fit. Her light touch is a gentle contrast to the tension building within me. I meet her gaze in the mirror, and she offers a soft, reassuring smile—a rare moment of comfort in the silence.
“You look perfect,” she says, her voice quiet but sincere.
I force a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes.
“I look like what they want me to look like.” The words escape before I can stop them, bitterness coloring my tone.
She tilts her head slightly, studying me with a knowing expression.
“They may see a princess,” she says gently, her voice carrying the weight of the moment we both feel. Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, steady and sure. “But those who matter will seeyou.”
Her words are heavy and comforting at the same time. And for just a moment, I let myself feel the warmth of her support, a welcome reprieve from a world that constantly demands perfection. But thequiet is soon broken by her bewildered gasp as she glances at the clock.
“I need to get ready!” she exclaims, darting toward the door.
“Wait!”
I reach for Sera’s hand just as she starts to pull away. She pauses, furrowing her brow in the way she does when she senses something deeper beneath my voice. I step past her without explaining, crossing to the vanity where the jewelry box rests. I find the silver bracelet inside—delicate and familiar—and I hold it for a moment before turning back to her.
She watches as I cross the room, confusion in her eyes as I take her hand again and press the bracelet into her palm.
“I gave this to you.”
“You did,” I murmur, folding her fingers gently around it. “But I think it’s safe to say I’m no longer the one in need of it.”
She studies me for a beat, something soft blooming behind her eyes—joy, hesitation, maybe even a little worry—but then her lips curl into a smile.
“Besides,” I add, my voice lighter now, “you’ll need it tonight—with all the vampire men just waiting to sweep you off into the night.”
She lets out a breathy laugh, her thumb brushing over the silver.
“Don’t worry. I like my men to prefer the sun.”
We laugh, and for a moment, we stand there—two girls caught between daydreams and duty, clinging to something that still feels like ours. Then I reach for her, pulling her into a brief embrace. She sinks into it without hesitation, her arms wrapping around me with a gentleness only she seems to give.
She pulls back, her hands lingering for a moment before she steps away, eyes sweeping over me one last time. Then, without another word, she moves toward the door, her dress whispering against the stone floor.
At the threshold, she pauses and glances back, a grin tugging at her lips.
“You’ll be the most stunning one there,” she says with a playful wink before disappearing, leaving me alone.
The silence that follows feels heavier than before. I turn back to the mirror, studying the polished reflection staring back at me. My hair, woven into a sleek braid, glints like liquid fire as it catches the light. The gown shimmers, a dark, elegant dream, and my crimson lips curve into a perfect, regal smile. Yet beneath the flawless exterior, I feel a disconnect. The girl in the mirror is everything the world expects of the daughter of the Vampire King.
Yet, she feels like a stranger. The polished facade, the carefully constructed perfection, is a mask I’ve worn for so long that I’ve almost forgotten what lies beneath it. My fingers brush the edge of the braid, the intricate weave a testament to Sera’s skill and care. It’s a small reminder of the humanity I cling to, even as the world expects me to be something more—something untouchable.
Loneliness creeps in, wrapping itself around me like a shadow. For a fleeting moment, I want to undo it all—the gown, the makeup, the braid—and retreat to the quiet safety of my chambers. But my duty rests heavy on my shoulders. There’s no room for hesitation tonight.
Then my gaze falls to the dagger resting on the vanity.
I take it without hesitation, fastening it beneath the folds of my skirt, hidden but close. A soft smile tugs at my lips as I look down at the weapon, remembering the way Casper toyed with me within the library's walls. The warmth of the memory flickers, then fades, leaving something colder in its place.Expectation.
I square my shoulders, lifting my chin as I turn away from the mirror. My heels click softly against the stone floor as I step into the corridor, the quiet stillness of my chambers immediately replaced by a flurry of activity.
The halls are alive with motion, but the sounds that fill the air are not just the whispers and hurried footsteps of servants—they are the lively murmur of voices, the clink of goblets, and the soft notes of laughter that spill from the already-crowded ballroom. The faint hum of conversation carries through the corridors, blending seamlessly with the rustle of fabric and the steady rhythm of servants moving between rooms.
