There, looming before her was a strange sort of girl. Scrawny, but with blue eyes that shone like beacons to the soul.
Her clothing; filthy tattered rags. A brown tunic with black leggings proceeded a pair of over-worn boots slapped on her feet.
Her lips curved into a playful smirk. Hair as firery red as the spirit of this woman. Although messily put back into a high ponytail.
As the Dutchess reached out to touch the outstreached hand of this girl; she faded away leaving her real reflection to face her.
She looked simular to a porcelain doll. Her face powdered and plucked to perfection. Her cheeks had been lightly dusted with rouge and her lips full and pink like a rose.
The loose and free auburn curls had been taimed into a bun. Piled up underneath the glittery crown adorned on her head.
It then made her realize. She would let go of her old self for who she must be now.
"The Grand Duchess Anastasia."
