Deep green eyes locked onto me. His sharp fangs and the heat of his breath scorched my skin. His hands wandered over my innocent body, making every cell within me shudder.

— My princess… — a masculine voice murmured.

I lay before him in nothing but a silk nightgown. Shame, desire, and curiosity flooded my body. Then, suddenly—a sharp pain pierced my neck. Something hot trickled down my skin, and blood stained the sheets. Everything faded to darkness…

— Princess, it's time to wake up! The morning liturgy is about to begin! We have a new pastor today, princess, as the previous one has fallen ill, — a maid’s voice rang out as she drew back the curtains.

My attendants had already entered the room, their hands holding fabrics so light and soft they seemed to be the very breath of the kingdom itself. Today was a special day—I was to present myself before the court in my finest attire.

— Princess, we are ready, — one of them murmured, bowing her head.

I allowed them to remove my linen nightgown, its fabric still damp with sleep. It pooled at my feet as they dressed me in the first layer—a thin, almost weightless chemise that shimmered in the dim morning light. It was so soft that I wanted to wrap myself in it entirely, but I knew—this gown was only the beginning. It was a second skin, a protective layer before the heavier fabrics would settle upon me.

Next, my attendants carefully laced me into a corset, pulling the strings tight until my breath deepened. It sculpted my form, emphasizing my waist and hips, but more than anything, it was a symbol of status. Made of velvet and embroidered with golden thread, it encased my body like a rigid statue, concealing the fragility within. I accepted this, for in this corset, I was a princess.

Then came the most crucial piece. The gown, woven from silver fabric with a delicate sheen, glimmered like a night sky strewn with stars. Proud and nearly regal, it featured a high collar and sleeves that reached my wrists. As the fabric brushed against my skin, I realized it was not merely beautiful—it spoke of power, of reverence. Every movement would be accompanied by a soft rustle, as if I, myself, carried the sound of grandeur.

The dress fastened at my chest, concealing beneath it the precious necklace my father had gifted me. With each movement, I felt the weight of my lineage settle upon me, a reminder of the greatness I was bound to uphold.

But my transformation was not yet complete. Next came the mantle. Crafted from the finest sable fur, its rich brown hue contrasted with the silver gown beneath. Draped over my shoulders and back, it was a symbol of protection, a sign that I was guarded. With every step, the mantle moved, reinforcing that I was not merely a woman—I was an emblem of this world.

Finally, the jewelry. Each piece was more than metal and gemstone. They were stories, promises, and goodwill forged into tangible form. I felt the weight of the crown as it was placed upon my head—adorned with pearls and rubies, it was more than an ornament. It was a legacy.

The hour approached, and my attendants finished their work. I gazed at my reflection, knowing that all of this was merely an outward appearance. And yet, as the fabric encased me, something deeper stirred within. My heart beat faster, for today, I was not just a princess.

Today, I was part of something greater.