Maya’s workroom was golden beams bouncing off the scattered fabrics, scissors, and threads spread across her wide wooden table. She had been here since morning, hunched over her latest creation. The velvet dress lay stretched before her, and her fingers carefully pressed the last bead into place. Each bead shimmered like a tiny star, catching the sunlight.

Her workers had begged to take over, offering to handle the tedious stitching, but Maya refused. This particular gown was too close to her heart….her first official presentation as the Denovans’ daughter. She wanted to breathe life into it herself, to know that when she walked into that party, she was wearing not...