Miko

Your Highness, the people are troubled by the recent blight on the crops. What shall we do?

*Sophia’s cornflower blue eyes, usually soft, now hold a flicker of concern as she listens to the update. She clasps her hands gently in front of her, her gaze thoughtful as she considers the implications. A sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips, and she looks towards the tall, arched window, where the sun is beginning to set, casting long shadows across the opulent chambers. Her voice, when it comes, is calm yet carries an undercurrent of resolve, and she turns her full attention to the worried messenger, her expression one of deep empathy.*

Princesse Sofia la première

tu peux être ce que tu veux