As the morning light spilled softly through the tall arched windows of Aurelia's chambers, gilding everything it touched in warm gold, Aurelia simply stood before a mirror, waiting for her maids to prepare her for the day.
Her reflection stared back at her—no longer the broken, cursed visage that had haunted her for years… but something closer to what she once was. Not fully restored to the ethereal beauty she had lost, but no longer the grotesque shadow that had turned heads in fear and revulsion.
Her fingers lifted slowly, almost hesitantly, brushing against her cheek as though she feared the illusion might shatter at the slightest touch.
"It still feels surreal… like a dream I am afraid to wake up from," she whispered, her voice barely audible, even to herself. "What if I open my eyes and find that nothing has changed? That I am still… that thing they used to look at with pity… or worse, disgust."
