The sun climbed higher, scorching the red rooftops of Aradelle, but to Vanka, the light felt like a spotlight ready to strip away every flaw on her face.
After kicking Dila out, Vanka locked herself in. She spent a full hour in front of the mirror, slathering on the most expensive moisturizers made of whale fat and rose essence.
"It's just a coincidence. Noah just planted some twisted suggestion in my head," Vanka muttered, her fingers pressing into the corners of her eyes. "I'm still Vanka. I'm still the jewel of Aradelle."
She took a jagged breath, threw on an elegant cream silk gown, and marched out.
She had to show everyone she was fine. Her arrogance was her best shield.
As she strode through the main hall toward the dining room, a row of male servants were busy polishing the marble pillars.
The moment the Princess passed, they stopped in unison and bowed low.
"Good afternoon, Your Highness," greeted a head servant named Jarek. He was old, but his eyes always twinkled with that annoying, over-the-top admiration whenever he saw Vanka.
"By the Gods, every time I see you, it's like the sun rises twice a day. Your skin today... it's literally glowing like a freshly polished diamond."
Twitch.
Vanka felt a tiny, microscopic tingling sensation on her right cheek. It was barely there, but she felt it. She knew it.
"A polished diamond, you say?" Vanka stopped, pinning Jarek with a stare so sharp it made the old man shake. "Are you sure, Jarek? Nothing looks... off about my face today?"
Jarek grinned widely, showing his yellowing teeth. "Off? Of course not, Princess! You're the definition of perfection. Even the dust is too shy to land on skin as smooth as yours."
Sting.
This time, it was on her forehead. Vanka clenched her fists beneath the folds of her gown. Liar. He's lying. Vanka knew she looked a bit washed out from lack of sleep, but Jarek called her 'glowing.' It was an automatic compliment hollow and fake.
And the curse... the curse didn't care if it was a well-meaning white lie or just polite small talk. It only detected one thing Deceit.
"Get out of my sight, Jarek. You smell like sweat," Vanka snapped, hiding her panic behind her usual snobbery.
"M-my apologies, Princess!" Jarek scrambled away.
Vanka quickened her pace. In the side garden, she crossed paths with two young guards. They flushed bright red as she passed.
"Unbelievable," one whispered, thinking she couldn't hear. "Princess Vanka looks more like a goddess every day. Look at that waist, and her face... she literally has no pores."
Vanka stopped dead. She turned slowly. "Soldier."
Both snapped to attention, faces crimson. "Yes, Your Highness!"
"Did you just say I have no pores?" Vanka asked, her voice cold and intimidating.
"I-it's just a figure of speech, Princess! I meant your skin is so perfect there isn't a single blemish. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life!"
Throb.
Vanka felt the skin on her cheeks lose just a tiny bit of its elasticity. To anyone else, she still looked like a stunning 19-year-old.
But Vanka, who knew every inch of her face by heart, felt her skin go a bit duller, like fruit that had just been picked an hour ago and was starting to lose its freshness.
"Trash-mouthed fools," she hissed under her breath as she walked away.
She entered the main dining hall. Uncle Baron was already there, waiting with Prince Eros, who still wore that fixed, plastic smile.
Luckily, the Queen wasn't there—just them and a few maids pouring wine.
"Vanka! You finally emerged," Uncle Baron stood to welcome her. "Eros almost thought you'd caught a fever from being unable to handle his charm."
Eros laughed, a sound so forced it made Vanka's skin crawl. "Of course not, Duke. Princess Vanka just needed time to prep her legendary beauty. And look... the wait was worth it. You look ten times more breathtaking than you did this morning, Princess."
Vanka felt like throwing up. Ten times more breathtaking? She'd literally found a gray hair this morning!
"Stop complimenting me, Eros," Vanka cut him off, sitting down roughly. "Your praise makes my ears itch."
Eros looked shocked but quickly recovered. "Ah, the humble Princess. That's just an added charm. My honesty might sound like flattery, but truly, your beauty is the only thing that makes Aradelle worth staying in."
Throb. Throb.
Two stings at the corners of her eyes. Vanka felt a fine line trying to peek through there. It was faint, like a pillow crease, but she knew it wasn't from a pillow. It was the mark of aging, creeping in.
"Vanka, watch your tone," Uncle Baron warned. "Eros is just trying to be sweet."
"Sweet or fake?" Vanka glared at her uncle. "Uncle, why don't you tell the male servants to stop talking to me? And you, Eros... if you open your mouth one more time to praise my eye color or my skin, I'll have the guards toss you into the fish pond."
Prince Eros gasped. He had never been rejected so brutally. "I... I'm only saying what I see, Princess."
"Then you need an eye doctor, Prince," Vanka snapped.
Suddenly, a young maid named Mila approached to hand Vanka a napkin.
"Princess, forgive me, but your gown today really doesn't suit your skin tone. You look a bit pale and... not quite as fresh as usual," Mila whispered honestly.
Vanka froze. She waited. She held her breath, waiting for the sting or the throb in her face.
One second... two seconds...
Nothing. No pain. No new wrinkles.
Vanka stared at Mila, eyes wide. "Repeat what you just said."
Mila turned pale with fear and immediately dropped to her knees. "P-please forgive me, Princess! I was just being honest! I didn't mean to insult you, but that cream color makes your face look a bit duller than usual. Please don't punish me!"
Instead of exploding, Vanka touched her cheek with a trembling hand. Right. Mila was honest. And more importantly... Mila was a girl.
"Stand up, Mila," Vanka said, her voice softening slightly but still commanding. "You aren't punished. In fact, I want you to keep talking to me like that. Never praise me unless you absolutely mean it."
"Vanka, what are you doing? You're letting a servant insult your appearance?" Uncle Baron looked livid.
"She's not insulting me, Uncle. She just has better eyes than your chosen guest," Vanka shot Eros a disgusted look.
Eros cleared his throat, trying to save face. "Maybe the maid is right, maybe the cream isn't the best. But to me, even if you wore a burlap sack, you'd still be the most beautiful woman in the world-"
"SHUT UP!" Vanka screamed, loud enough to make the wine glasses rattle.
Every time Eros spoke, Vanka felt like time was moving faster on her face. She felt the moisture being sucked out of her skin. She felt a little more... old. Just a tiny bit. So little that her father probably wouldn't notice. But for a perfectionist like Vanka, it was pure hell.
"I've lost my appetite," Vanka stood up, pushing her chair back with a loud screech.
"Vanka! Get back here!" Uncle Baron ordered.
Vanka ignored him. She stormed out. In the corridor, another male servant tried to greet her, but Vanka yelled, "Shut your mouth or I'll have your tongue cut out!"
She reached her room and slammed the door. She lunged for her cracked mirror.
Vanka inspected her face under the bright oil lamp. The fine line at the corner of her eye... it looked a bit longer now.
And her cheeks... when she pinched them, the skin didn't snap back as fast as it used to. There was a micro-second delay.
"I'm aging," she whispered, tears blurring her vision. "That bastard Noah wasn't joking."
She thought of Noah. The man she had exiled with the cruellest words. The man she called 'disgusting.'
"Only he can heal me?" Vanka laughed bitterly, her voice breaking. "Only honesty from the man I hate most can save my face?"
Vanka grabbed a black silk veil from her wardrobe. She wrapped it around her face, leaving only her sharp eyes visible.
"I can't let anyone see this," she muttered. "Uncle can't know. Father can't know."
Vanka sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her hands. She was still beautiful, sure. People out there would still worship her face.
But every compliment they threw her way now was a threat. Every sweet word was a dagger carving away her youth.
"I have to find a way," Vanka clenched her fists. "I won't beg you, Noah. Never. I'll find another sorcerer, someone more powerful than you. I am Princess Vanka of Aradelle, and I won't be defeated by some stupid curse from an exiled prince!"
But deep down, a tiny voice whispered How many more compliments can you survive before your face turns into an old woman's in front of the throne?
Vanka sobbed quietly behind her veil, her pride starting to crack, even if she was still too arrogant to admit it.