And the entire time she looked out of the windows, awaiting the sunrise. At the first lance of light shining through the glass, she heaved a sigh of relief. The sun was such a rare sight in Witrotean that she had come to appreciate each morning a bit more than most.

‘Princess, I need you to sit and look directly forward.’

They painted her, retraced the lines of her face, and covered the bluish planes of her bruised body, until what was left was an immaculate little doll. Painted, polished, pure.

The perfect little prim and proper lie.

If she couldn’t act the part, then, at least for today she looked it.

Her hair was braided and curled much like Araxia’s, and a jewel-laden tiara balanced atop her head. The tiredness, the hunger, her failures, her shortcomings all carefully smoothed and polished away.

Then there was the dress.

It was the most brilliant shade of blue, hugging her body in heavy satin and velvet. Long sleeves. High neck. And encrusted with precious gems that cast small, fractured rainbows along the walls whenever she caught the light.

It made her feel powerful and delicate all in the same breath. As if somehow the Canmore women that came before her were woven into the laces, holding her steady. The gown’s gems were like their eyes, watchful, guiding.

Rayna placed a tiny crystal bottle into Sapphire’s hand.

Sapphire studied it. The bottle was unmarked, with no ingredients, no instructions, no indicators of its intended purpose. The potion made by Ashes.

Sapphire returned her gaze to the mirror – realizing, for the first time, just how out of place her eyes looked. A stark purple contrast to the pretty picture the servants had made.

She popped the top and tossed the contents back. It was bitter and thick, and she gagged as it slid down her throat.

But when she stared into the looking glass, Kip and Araxia’s gentle colouring of soft moss and ryegrass already stared back.

‘Green eyes, to match theirs,’ Sapphire muttered.

She quickly averted her gaze, stepping unsteadily off the dressing platform. Claye knocked on the door, signalling that they were out of time. Rayna rushed to open it and he stepped inside.

‘A vision you are, princess.’

Sapphire offered him a small smile.

‘You look like her, you know.’

‘Like Araxia?’

‘No. Like Queen Aylara,’ Claye responded. ‘You look almost identical to the first Canmore queen.’

She wanted to ask Claye more, but the man was already ushering her out of the room. Araxia was waiting for her in the corridor, and at the sight of her daughter the queen began to cry. Even the king softened, his eyes misted.

‘You – you are more lovely than I could have ever imagined.’ The queen raised a hesitant hand towards her cheek, fighting to quell her tears. ‘How are you feeling?’

Nervous, terrified, nauseous, anxious? A maelstrom of emotion caught together in the squall.