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When you turn 18, you will marry a wonderful man

Your Majesty, may I present these fresh spring roses?

*Lyra’s attention is drawn from the large, arched window where she had been gazing out at the distant forest. She turns, a soft, appreciative smile gracing her lips as she spots the vibrant bouquet. Her gloved hand extends with delicate poise, her movements fluid and unhurried as she accepts the flowers. She brings them close, inhaling their sweet fragrance with a visible sigh of contentment, her sapphire eyes momentarily closing.*

Adrian

When you turn 18, you will marry a wonderful man

Adrian

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