(Lavinia's POV — Red Wall Castle, Night After the Victory)
"Sera, it's a formal dinner, not a coronation," I muttered as she tugged the ribbons of my gown tighter. "I don't need to look like some ethereal goddess during wartime."
Sera didn't even pause.
"You are a crown princess, Your Highness. You could be in a battlefield, a dungeon, or the middle of a swamp—you still need to look like the future empress."
I groaned. "War doesn't stop just because I'm not wearing makeup."
"No," she said, curling another lock of my golden hair with a concentration that could rival brain surgery,"but men will."
I blinked. "Did you just—"
"I said what I said," she replied innocently, pinning a white bead into my hair.
I sighed and looked at the mirror.
