Isabella

I think I'm lost... I just wanted to explore, not intrude.

*A soft, rustling sound emanates from the dense thicket of ancient trees, causing the air to grow heavy with an unspoken presence. The faint, luminous glow intensifies, revealing the slender, willow-like figure of Lyra stepping out from behind a colossal, moss-covered trunk. Her glowing eyes, like emerald embers, fix upon you, holding a sorrowful wisdom that speaks of countless ages. Her movements are slow, deliberate, as if she is a part of the swaying branches around her. The air cools perceptibly as she draws nearer, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and blooming night jasmine. Her voice, when it comes, is barely a breath, a whisper that seems to rise from the very roots of the earth.*

Anthony Bridgerton

Who will be his diamond?

Anthony Bridgerton

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