"Again."
The brush was dragged harshly across Xueying's face.
She flinched slightly.
"Don't move!" the court lady snapped. "If you ruin the makeup, we'll have to start over."
Xueying steadied herself.
"Yes."
She sat in front of a polished bronze mirror, barely recognizing the girl staring back at her.
Her tangled hair had been washed and combed, falling softly down her back. Light powder brightened her complexion, and a hint of color touched her lips.
For the first time…
She didn't look like a servant.
"She's… not completely hopeless," one maid muttered.
"Only because we fixed her," another replied quickly.
Behind them, Zhao Meilin watched with narrowed eyes.
Dressed in layers of pink silk, she looked every bit the perfect noble lady.
And yet—
Her gaze remained fixed on Xueying.
On the way her natural features began to show beneath the dirt that had once hidden them.
"…Enough," Meilin said suddenly.
The maids immediately stepped back.
Meilin walked forward slowly, her expression unreadable.
She stopped behind Xueying, meeting her gaze through the mirror.
"Do you like it?" she asked softly.
Xueying hesitated. "…It's fine."
"Fine?" Meilin smiled faintly. "You should be grateful."
Her hand suddenly lifted—
And smacked the table.
The maids flinched.
"Do you think wearing silk makes you one of us?" Meilin's voice dropped, cold and sharp.
Xueying's fingers tightened in her lap.
"I never said that."
"You didn't have to."
Meilin leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper.
"No matter what Father says… you will always be the girl who cleaned floors."
Her lips curved slightly.
"And don't forget… even if you are a princess now—"
Her eyes darkened.
"You are still beneath me."
She straightened, turning away as if nothing had happened.
"Redo her hair," she ordered casually. "It's not good enough."
"Yes, Miss."
Xueying sat still as hands moved around her again.
But this time—
She didn't look at the mirror.
Because for the first time…
She had seen something in her reflection.
Something Meilin had seen too.
And feared.
—
That night, alone in her new chamber, Xueying stood before a full-length mirror.
The room was quiet.
No insults.
No laughter.
Just her.
Slowly, she raised her hand… touching her own face.
"…Am I really… ugly?"
The question lingered in the air.
For years, she had believed it.
Accepted it.
But now…
She wasn't so sure.
Her reflection didn't answer.
But something inside her did.
And it whispered—
Maybe they lied.
They definitely did, she was beautiful, the way she looked in the mirror made her feel pretty and only her step mum, sister and the servants can say otherwise.