Tears spilled down Melania's cheeks as she watched the man being dragged away, his desperate gaze locked with hers. She reached for him, helpless, but the distance between them only grew.
"Melania!" His voice echoed in her mind—then faded.
A tap on her shoulder made her flinch.
"Hey, wake up, chubby girl! We'll be late for school!" her cousin Iris said, shaking her lightly.
Melania blinked, the palace fading from her sight. She was back in her room, still crying.
"Are you crying?" Iris asked, frowning.
Melania sat up on her bed, noticing the wet streaks on her cheeks. She wiped them with her palm. "I saw that man in my dream again… he wanted to save me from something, but I don't even know what it was."
Iris rolled her eyes. "It's just a dream, okay? Now get up!"
Still drowsy, Melania let Iris help her out of bed. They had stayed up far too late the night before watching a movie marathon.
Suddenly, her aunt Valeria appeared in the doorway.
"You two are going to be late for school. What were you doing last night?" she asked sternly.
"Mom, we watched a couple of movies," Iris answered. "We couldn't sleep because you came home late!"
"Even if I'm not home, you still need to sleep early," Valeria said.
"Okay, Mom… but why did you get home so late?" Iris asked.
"I had to pick up some fabrics downtown. The traffic was terrible, and the rain made it worse. Anyway, hurry up and get ready for breakfast!"
"Yes, Mom," Iris replied.
Valeria's gaze shifted to Melania, who was still yawning. "And you, Melania—don't sleep so late next time. Look at you, you can barely get up."
"Yes, Aunt Valeria," Melania murmured.
Melania was an orphan. Her parents had died in an accident when she was just five years old. Since then, her mother's sister, Valeria, had taken her in and treated her like her own child. Valeria was a widow, and Iris—two years older than Melania—was her only daughter. They lived in a rented house, and Valeria ran a small tailoring shop in front.
Melania shuffled into the bathroom, splashed her face with water, and washed up. When she caught her reflection in the mirror, her heart sank. She hated the roundness of her face, the way her body looked. She wasn't pretty, and because of it, she was often bullied at school.
"What if I could become as beautiful as a mannequin?" she whispered to herself.
Her mind wandered back to the man from her dream. "Who is he? Why does it feel like I've known him forever?" Her chest tightened with a strange excitement. "It would be nice to have a boyfriend like him," she sighed.
She wished she could meet someone like that in real life.
For reasons she couldn't explain, she dreamed of him often—always in the Bolanaire Kingdom. In those dreams, she spoke with a queen, wandered among mannequins, and felt herself drawn into a world that didn't belong to her. Ever since she was a child, she had wished to be beautiful like the mannequins. But now… it was more than just a wish. The dreams were coming more frequently, and each time, they felt more real.