“You’re beautiful, Alyce.” I stiffen. “No. Nothing like you.” She smiles softly. Sadly, almost. “Me? I have no idea what I look like.” “What do you mean?” The palace has no shortage of mirrors. “The moment I was born, the Graces were summoned. Every inch of my body is planned. The length of my legs. The width of my hips. My hair color. I think I was born with black hair, actually. I know my mother was.” She examines the tip of a curl. “So what you see isn’t much better than a trick. Turning a regular child into a beautiful princess with a few drops of magic.”
