Amelia - The Porcelain Mask

She turns, and her heavy costume rustles as she glides from the shadows of the wings into the light of the hall. She moves not like a tired performer, but like a princess, her steps measured and silent. The few nobles in her path seem to part for her automatically.

She stops precisely three paces before the Empress—the perfect, respectful distance. Amelia sinks, her body folding into a deep, graceful curtsy. Her back is ramrod straight, her cascading pink hair spilling over one sho... by neavyi