Checking herself in the long mirror, Celestina nodded at her reflection with a pleased smile.
"Oh my! You look like an angel sent from the heavens!"
"More like a goddess!"
"Indeed, you look stunning, Your Highness."
At the constant stream of compliments from the tailor, the courtier, and Sir Henrik, Celestina felt deeply satisfied, though she didn't show too much of it on her face.
To Celestina, the praise wasn't mere flattery. In her own eyes—and in the eyes of others—she was objectively beautiful and striking, and what was beautiful and striking should be complimented and praised, right? It was only natural. Perhaps she had a bit of a spoiled mindset, maybe even a touch of narcissism, but to Celestina, these were simply facts.
The dress didn't exactly increase her beauty; it merely framed and highlighted it.
