Chapter 7. The Engagement

Margherita stood before the mirror, the reflection of a girl she barely recognized staring back.

Layers of pale silk shimmered around her like mist. Her hair was sculpted into soft curls that framed her face, her lips painted the color of peonies. A diamond necklace—Simona’s, of course—rested against her throat.

She looked perfect. Flawless. Lifeless.

Simona circled her slowly, inspecting her like a jeweler appraising a rare gem.

“Exquisite,” she murmured, smoothing the gown’s folds. “At last, my little dove looks exactly as she should.”

Margherita forced a small smile. “If I stand here any longer, I’ll start moulting.”

Simona laughed—briefly, without warmth. “Don’t be dramatic. Tonight is important. Everything we’ve worked for depends on it.”

She turned toward the door. “The guests are arriving. I’ll greet them. You’ll be summoned when it’s time for your entrance.”

The door closed behind her, and silence settled like a shroud.

M