Sitting at my vanity, I stare at myself in the electric lights. The body I now inhabit is pale, with deep pink eyes and light pink hair that falls in curling waves past my shoulders and down to my hips. A handsome face, if you ask me, with strong features and a sharp nose. A good figure, strong limbs and long hands.

I stretch my arms above my head, yawning.

I sigh as I put my arms down, leaning on the vanity and looking again at the mirror. The dressing gown is an old, well-made winter one. Slightly quilted, ruby red, trimmed in purple. I put my elbows on the table, leaning my chin in my hands.

"Quite a situation I've gotten myself into," I mumble to my pale reflection, "She's got a great wardrobe, at least."

So many dresses! Even the nightgown I'm currently wearing under the dressing gown is excellently made, comfortably loose and the color of forget-me-nots, the collar decorated with a slightly darker blue ribbon.

I tap my bare feet against the cold floor of the room-sized closet.

How to decide? The different dresses are organized by color, warm and light becoming cool and dark as they went farther in. The shoes in the closet are also organized by color, though there's a seperate area for all of the accessories.

The evening gown I end up choosing is emerald green and form-fitting, with off-the-shoulder sleeves and lighter green embroidery along the neckline. Paired with matching green gloves and a silver and emerald jewelry set, it looks absolutely gorgeous. I sit down at the vanity again after changing, having also picked a pair of emerald green flats.

The scent of the makeup as I finish applying it is cloying. It makes my nose itch as I remove one glove to rub dark lipstick from my teeth.

"Hair," I say to myself, again staring at the mirror. "How do people usually wear their hair to balls? Should I just ask the maid from before to do it for me? Hmmm."