Chapter Eleven; She's My Wife

“You look stunning, my lady,” Celine beams from beside me, seemingly more excited about my outfit than I am. The young girl has a peculiar way of speaking, like she has spent most of her time among royalty, but I could tell from her calloused hands as she applies the finishing touches on my makeup that she was raised in a harsh world.

I look down at my own hands, hands that had once slaved in hard labor. Now, they look smooth and spotless, but I know very well what these hands have gone through.

“Thank you, Celine,” I smile at her, meeting her bright eyes through the dressing mirror.

“You're welcome, my lady. I'll go inform the chauffeur that you're ready to leave,” the young girl says, offering a small curtsey bow before heading for the exit.

Once she's gone, I let my gaze sweep my reflection. I am dressed in a tailored, navy blue pantsuit that speaks volumes of understated elegance and professionalism.

The blazer is cut to perfection, fitting snugly around my shoulders and cinched sl