The silken walls of her tent felt suffocating as Vivienne caught her reflection in the bronze mirror, feathers beginning to creep at her collarbone, her nails darkening at the tips. The sound of a knight’s voice drifted through the canvas flap, steady and hopeful, asking for her by name. It was him, the suitor who used every opportunity to try to impress her.

Her hands shook as she uncorked the vial, smearing the pungent ointment across her skin in hurried strokes, whispering a half-prayer that it would hold. She tugged at the chain around her neck, the enchanted pendant glowing faintly, masking the worst of her curse.

Drawing a deep, shallow breath, she forced her trembling lips into a smile before parting the tent’s entrance.

"You honor me with your presence, ser… Forgive the delay, I was not yet ready to receive you."