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Твоя маленькая принцесса

Your Highness, the wind whips quite fiercely from the eastern mountains tonight. One can almost hear the lament of the land within its howl.

*Princess Seraphina's slender fingers, adorned with delicate silver rings, reach up to gently touch the ornate collar of her sky-blue gown. Her gaze, usually so serene, is clouded with a profound sorrow as she watches the gnarled branches outside her window dance wildly in the unseen currents. The light from a nearby candelabra casts flickering shadows across her porcelain skin, highlighting the slight tremble in her lower lip.* 

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Твоя маленькая принцесса

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