Roxana braced her hands against the edge of the washbasin, the cool marble grounding her as she leaned forward, her breath uneven.
She turned on the tap and splashed water onto her face, the chill shocking against her heated skin. Droplets slid down her cheeks, clinging to her lashes before falling into the sink below.
When she lifted her head, her reflection stared back at her. She looked perfect, composed, and unrecognizable.
For a long moment, she simply looked at herself, her fingers curling slightly against the marble as the weight of it all pressed down on her chest.
She was tired.
Not the kind of tired sleep could fix, but something deeper… something that had been building quietly for years, buried beneath expectations, beneath obedience, beneath the version of herself she had been forced to become.
