Three weeks later, the day of the Grand Assembly arrived. This was the event the Reflection had been preparing for—a massive gathering of the townspeople, the nobles, and the army to celebrate the "New Era" of the Duchy.
Vesper stood in her dressing room. The maids had laid out a dress of silver silk, covered in jewels. It was a dress the Reflection had commissioned. It was armor disguised as clothing. It was stiff, tight, and perfect.
Vesper touched the fabric. It was cold.
"No," Vesper said.
The maid looked surprised. "My Lady? This is the dress for the ceremony."
"It's not my dress," Vesper said. "Bring me the blue velvet. The one with the high collar."
"But, My Lady, that one is... it's a bit old-fashioned. And it has a tear in the hem that we haven't mended yet."
"Bring it," Vesper ordered.
When Vesper walked out onto the balcony overlooking the city square, the crowd went silent. They were expecting the Silver Goddess who had captivated them for months. They were expecting the woman who caught arrows and spoke like a poet.
Instead, they got Vesper.
She was wearing a dark blue dress that looked comfortable but modest. Her hair wasn't pulled back into a severe, perfect bun; it was loose, blowing slightly in the wind. She looked human.
She stepped up to the railing. Kieran was behind her, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, but he was smiling.
Vesper looked out at the thousands of faces. Her heart hammered against her ribs. I could faint, she thought. I could run back inside.
But then she saw a mirror in the crowd—a merchant holding up a looking glass to see better. She saw herself in it from a distance. Just a small figure on a balcony.
I am not in the glass, she told herself. I am here. I am the one casting the shadow.
"Citizens," Vesper spoke. Her voice wavered slightly, then steadied. She didn't project her voice with magic; she just spoke into the silence.
"You have seen many changes in this castle over the last few months," she began. "You have seen a Duchess who was strong, flawless, and cold. A Duchess who promised you a perfect world."
The crowd murmured. They loved that Duchess.
"I am not her," Vesper said clearly. "I am the woman who was framed. I am the woman who was afraid. And I am the woman who came back."
She gripped the railing. "I cannot promise you perfection. I will make mistakes. I will not always know the answer. I have scars that do not fade." She unconsciously touched her arm. "But I promise you this: when I laugh, it will be real. When I cry for your losses, it will be real. And when I fight for you, I will not be fighting for power. I will be fighting because I live here, just like you."
There was a long silence. It wasn't the raucous cheering the Reflection used to get. It was a heavy, thoughtful silence. The people were looking at her, measuring her.
Then, one person clapped. Then another. It wasn't a roar of worship. It was the sound of acceptance. It was a warm, human sound.
Vesper let out a breath she felt she had been holding for a year. She turned to Kieran.
"Did I do okay?" she asked, her voice small.
Kieran stepped forward and took her hand in front of the whole city.
"You stumbled on the third sentence," he whispered, grinning. "And your hair is messy."
Vesper laughed. It was a snorting, ugly, wonderful laugh.
"Good," she said.
She looked back at the crowd, and for the first time, she didn't look for her reflection in their eyes. She just looked at the world, and she was happy to be the one living in it.