*Saoirse*
I stared at my reflection in the ornate mirror, fidgeting with the emerald green dress I had been loaned. The fine fabric clung elegantly to my frame, accentuating curves usually hidden beneath my modest village clothes. I felt like an imposter playing dress-up compared to the royalty and nobility typically seen around the palace.
A knock interrupted my fretting. I opened the door to find Prince Rhys. He was devastatingly handsome in a black suit that highlighted his tall, muscular build. Suddenly self-conscious, I fingered my vibrant red curls, pinned up in an intricate style by Edith.
"You look beautiful," Rhys said, his intense gaze meeting mine. Heat rushed to my cheeks.
"Th-thank you," I stammered. "I feel silly wearing such fancy borrowed clothes."
"Nonsense. That dress suits you perfectly. And the clothes aren’t borrowed. They are yours to keep." Rhys's rich voice soothed my nerves. He offered his arm. "Shall we?"
