It was (of course) a perfect fit, and the bodice was padded in just the right places to enhance her slender, girlish, but (alas) flat-bosomed figure. She then added a silver necklace and a tiara of white gold, finely worked in a delicate tracery of flowers and leaves, and looked in the mirror. The girl who looked back at her, in spite of her red eyes and sharp teeth, was lovely by any fair standard. Almost as lovely, even, as the Queen herself, or one of her ladies. Alexandreina sighed wistfully and shed a few tears, as a memory stirred: I once had the chance to become one of them. A real lady of the court. A princess. Me… and I refused it. I shall never have that chance again.
Our Beloved Tyrants Scene 49
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