**Make Believe—J.T Peterson**
The dress was finally ready. And once again, Mistress Cecilia managed to prove anew the reason why she was the Queen's personal designer.
Her talent and creativity easily went up and beyond, and it seemed something about the current occasion was pushing the woman's talent past its usual limits.
Very carefully, they helped her into the dress, and her breath caught when she beheld herself before the mirror.
It was a stunning creation—the garment born of midnight and gold, where every thread seemed spun from a shrewd secret of its own.
The black silk shimmered with the faintest metallic undertone, catching the light with a quiet, dangerous elegance. Tiny rivulets of golden embroidery crawled down the bodice in twisting, deliberate patterns, like lightning frozen in fabric.
The concept itself was exactly as Cecilia sketched it; but on her body, it easily rivalled the sketch… making the penciled outline look like a copy other than the original.
