Victoria's hands trembled as she stared at her reflection in the stream. The water rippled with each shaky breath she took, but even through the distortion, she noticed something strange.
Her eyes.
They glowed faintly—an iridescent shimmer, like sunlight on rose petals. She cupped the water to her face, and for a moment, the forest itself seemed to lean toward her. Flowers near the stream bloomed, even though it was not their season.
Her pulse quickened. "What's happening to me…?"
She remembered the wave of power that had knocked the bandits away. It wasn't fire, not truly. It had felt like… light. Warmth. Beauty itself, twisting into force.
And then the memory stirred—an old whisper she had once overheard from the palace priests as a child: "The Goddess of Beauty blesses only those who carry her grace. But her chosen are rarer than kings and queens. Some say they no longer exist at all."
Could it be…?
As if to answer, the air shimmered around her. A faint glow rippled over her skin like moonlight. The cuts on her feet began to close, her breathing steadied, and even the dirt on her hands seemed to fade. She gasped, touching her face. Her body was healing itself.
Leaves rustled as a deer stepped cautiously from the trees. Normally skittish, it should have fled at the sight of her. Instead, it bowed its head, as if drawn to her presence.
Victoria's throat tightened. "This… this is the Goddess of Beauty's blessing…"
Her mind reeled. She had always believed herself to be nothing—a slave without value. Now, the truth was almost too heavy to bear: she was chosen. Marked by divinity itself.
But then fear crept back in.
If nobles learned of this, they would never let her go. A slave blessed by the Goddess wasn't just rare—she was priceless. She wouldn't be free. She would be caged, paraded, worshipped, and controlled.
She pressed her glowing hands to her chest, tears stinging her eyes. "I didn't ask for this."
The deer stepped closer, brushing its head against her arm. The warmth of its trust steadied her heart.
"No," she whispered, clenching her fists. "I won't be their jewel in a cage. This gift—it's mine. And I'll decide how to use it."
For the first time, Victoria rose from the forest floor not as a runaway, not as a slave,but as something entirely new.
And somewhere far away, Damien paused in his search. For reasons he couldn't explain, his heart raced, as though he could feel Victoria's awakening in the depths of his soul.