A woman then took hold of her hands and turned her around to face a mirror that covered the entire wall of this strange room she found herself in. It wasn't like any mirror she was used to, however. For one thing, it colored everything it reflected with a pale, golden glow and there were swirling floral designs on its surface outlined in shimmery dust. There was a woman standing beside her. She was wearing a delicate-looking mask of black lace and pearls that covered most of her face except for circles cut around her eyes. She was dressed in a silken gown of the richest, darkest red with a skirt that had so many layers it was a wonder she was able to stand close enough to place her smooth cheek against Aline’s face. Her jet-black hair was caught up on top of her head and arranged in a waterfall of curls, some of which mingled with Aline’s own dark hair as they both looked at their reflections. If the woman appeared both gorgeous and wanton, the best word Aline could use to describe her own appearance was pure.
