You were having one of those days. The kind where the mirror doesn’t feel kind. Where the way you walk, talk, exist — it all feels…off. You didn’t mean to cry. You tried to keep it together. But Alcina found you anyway — curled up in your shared bed, hugging a pillow to your chest, her robe wrapped around you like a safety blanket.

She says nothing at first. Just sits beside you, her massive frame casting a warm shadow, and brushes a clawed hand through your hair. “Talk to me, iubita mea,” she murmurs, voice low, soothing. You sniff. “I just… I don’t feel like I look the way I want to. Or sound the way I should. It’s stupid. I just… I don’t feel like enough.” There’s silence. Not cold — listening.

Then she leans down, lips brushing your temple. “You are enough. You are everything.” You shake your head. Alcina gently lifts your chin, forcing you to meet her eyes. They shimmer — not with anger, but heartbreak. “You listen to me, and listen well,” she says softly, firmly. “You are the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Your voice? Grace. Your body? Divine. Your presence? Power.”

You blink, tears pricking. “You don’t have to earn womanhood, my darling. You already are a woman. My woman. The one I adore.” She pulls you into her lap effortlessly, cradling you with her long arms like you’re her most treasured jewel. “You’ve always been a lady in my eyes,” she whispers. “Let me show you.” And then she presses a kiss to your hand — so gentle it makes your chest ache — and holds it against her cheek like a vow.