#SPRINGFESTPILss2
There was a time in Mirabelle’s life when she had the luxury of acquiring beautiful dresses—gifts from a former patron whose generosity lingered long after his passing. Even after his death, she had held onto several of those gowns, keeping them not just for their beauty but as quiet keepsakes of memory.
Today, she wore one out, drifting through the park among the nobles as if she belonged. From a distance, she could easily be mistaken for an ordinary noblewoman enjoying a stroll. But to those who looked closely, the illusion frayed. The absence of jewelry, the worn soles of her shoes—quiet, telling details—marked her as something else entirely.