Delicate, translucent white curtains billowed gracefully from the grand sash windows, framing an exquisite panorama of the sprawling Baldasonie Estate. She stood enveloped in a serene silence, her gaze lingering fondly on the radiant glow that enveloped the morning sky in a warm, golden embrace. The soft, ethereal light danced playfully above the rugged peaks of the mountains, weaving a spell that felt almost otherworldly.

Her long mahogany brown hair cascaded in luxurious waves down to her waist, shimmering softly like spun silk in the gently unfolding dawn. Her striking crystal blue eyes sparkled with an intensity that mirrored the stunning tapestry of color blossoming before her. This enchanting view was the very reason that what had once been a simple art room had been transformed into her sanctuary—a haven where beauty and tranquility reigned supreme.

From her elevated vantage point, the scene outside appeared to leap from the canvas of a masterful painting, encapsulating a moment of gilded beauty that felt simultaneously intimate and expansively infinite.

Yet, beneath the spellbinding beauty, her heart weighed heavy with anticipation. Today marked her sixteenth birthday, a day that heralded her passage into the realm of adulthood. No longer would she be relegated to the sidelines of mature conversations, dismissed as a mere child, or barred from the lavish, prestigious balls that celebrated her father's honor. While the allure of these newfound freedoms danced tantalizingly in her mind, they were not the whole truth. For today, she found herself imprisoned within the confines of her chamber, locked away by her father, who had withheld the peculiar reasons behind her confinement. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, a flicker of hope lingered in her heart—a promise woven into the tapestry of her childhood tales—a reminder that the day would come when she would discover the truth, just as her mother had always solemnly assured her.

As the sunrise reached its zenith, the shadows recoiled, giving way to a full illumination that painted the world in golden hues. Excitement bubbled within her as she eagerly awaited the arrival of her handmaidens with their buckets of warm water and a small tray bearing essential rose oils and fragrant lavender soap. It was quite rare to combine those enchanting scents, yet they mingled exquisitely with her essence. As expected, the three maids ushered into her chambers without knocking, a routine that had become an unspoken rule of familiarity.

With a carefree gesture, she raised her hands above her head, allowing them to effortlessly remove her silk nightgown that cascaded down to her ankles. Once freed from its delicate confines, Sarah-Jane, a young maid two years her senior, extended her hand to gracefully assist her into the waiting tub. Warm water cascaded over her long hair, and the wash sponge, laced with the soothing lavender soap, glided over her skin, eliciting a soft sigh of contentment. She closed her eyes, indulging in the simple pleasure of the moment.

As she stood idly, the maids dressed her in snug white leather breeches, followed by a plain white linen shirt adorned with a high-winged collar that draped elegantly beneath her black waistcoat and sturdy top boots, complete with spurs and decorative boot garters. To the untrained eye, her appearance bore the hallmarks of a noble gentleman—a carefully crafted disguise her father had insisted upon to conceal her true identity. When they finished, her long hair was woven into an intricate braid, and a stately top hat was placed upon her head, sealing away the feminine beauty she effortlessly embodied.

As she regarded her reflection in the full-length mirror, a sense of dismay washed over her at the woman staring back. Her rare yet light crystal blue eyes were hardened against her expectations, her jaw clenched to craft the strong angles that defined the faces of men, and her lips pulled into a scowl that echoed her father's permanent grimace. Over the years, she had learned to mimic his expression, understanding that this was the only way he would grant her even a modicum of freedom.

She blinked a few times, somewhat impressed by her acting skills, before adjusting her waistcoat and stepping out of her chambers. Her handmaidens had been replaced by two grumpy guards, their faces etched with annoyance at the time it took her to prepare for this particular outing. She wondered, perhaps a bit sarcastically, if they would ever grow accustomed to this ritual; each year on her birthday, she celebrated by going hunting, only to be barred from chasing a fictitious scent and instead forced to partake in the real thing. It felt rather insulting, but she kept that discontent to herself.

After navigating the labyrinth of stairs, she found herself in the family parlor, surrounded by the bustling maids who hurried to place trays brimming with bacon, eggs, toast, and porridge. Her father had often insisted that the family gather for breakfast each morning, yet on her birthdays, she was typically excused. Still, she resolutely chose to wait for him, eager to greet him before her departure.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the heavy sound of his footsteps echoed through the halls, ascending the stairs and followed closely by lighter ones. The nearer he drew, the louder her heart thundered within her chest, creating an almost breathless rhythm. Her father had an undeniable power over those around him; people feared him for his hair-trigger temper and the dire consequences that could follow an angry outburst. Finally, as the door creaked open, she braced herself to face the man who cast both a shadow and a light over her world.

The tall man stood at 6ft7 inches over her, beaming down at her with pride. It was no secret that she was beautiful, as the attention from lower-class gentlemen had made it quite noticeable since they stared and admired from afar, some were even bold enough to ask if she needed any assistance, to which she most of the time politely declined.

"My Victoria". Her father whispered, lifting her chin to avert her eyes to meet his. "I feared this day from the moment you were born, I've shielded you all those years my darling daughter, in hopes of protecting your beauty from this dreadful world, now you stand before me, no longer a child you are, but a beautiful young lady, may this day be filled with joy."

He kissed her on her forehead as he had done many times over the years, yet today his heart was heavy, she knew that much. She knew he could no longer shield the one thing he found beautiful from the world and this made him sad. His mahogany brown hair which matched that of his daughter was combed back to perfection, while his golden brown eyes darkened with emotion. He let go of her, allowing her mother to embrace her.

She flung herself at her mother, clinging to her, the older woman reciprocated matching energy since she also returned the same gesture by flinging her tan arms around her daughter's slender frame.

"My dear". She said softly.