The fabric draped over Aeliana's form like liquid silk, smooth and weightless, a stark contrast to the heavy robes and dull garments she had worn for years. The dress clung just enough to remind her that she was alive, that her body was no longer frail, no longer confined to shadows and whispers of sickness.
Aeliana stepped forward, her movements effortless, the faint brush of the air against her bare skin a startling sensation. How long had it been since she had felt something like this? Since she had worn something so elegant, so unashamedly bold?
'Too long…'
The grand mirror reflected an unfamiliar sight. The woman who gazed back at her was no longer the pitiful thing that once lurked behind veils and closed doors. No sunken cheeks, no frail limbs struggling to bear their own weight.
No hesitation.