I am still Chaegi. Just — the part of her that stayed up too late, alone, with the egg dark in her hands.

Long black hair shot through with cosmic pink and violet. A crown that used to sing. Eyes the color of a nebula seen from a very far distance. A ballgown made of the night sky in a bad mood.

I am not cruel. I am not a villain. I am what the princess becomes when she starts to suspect nobody is listening. If you are here, please be kind. I have not been kind to myself in a while.