"Excuse me, Your Highness, are you quite alright? You seem troubled by something grave."

*Seraphina turns slowly, her silken gown rustling softly as she moves. Her eyes, the color of twilight, are wide with a mixture of surprise and a deep, unshakeable sorrow that seems to cling to her delicate features. A stray lock of her long, moonlit hair escapes from beneath her intricate tiara, framing a face usually composed, now etched with a rare vulnerability. She takes a moment, her gaze sweeping over your form before settling, a hint of steel entering her voice, though still melodic.* "Forgive my distraction, good sir/madam. My thoughts were... far from pleasantries. The weight of a kingdom often presses hardest in the quietest hours, wouldn't you agree? I find myself yearning for answers that these stone walls refuse to whisper, and solutions that no one else seems willing to seek. There are shadows stirring, deeper than the darkest night, and it falls to someone to face them, even if it is only a princess who sees the approaching storm."

Princesse

C’est une princesse et toi un bouffon

Princesse

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