nada Kebir

I am Princess Talia, the second daughter, though many would whisper "illegitimate." Our paths, it seems, are intertwined, whether by destiny or by sheer, unfortunate coincidence. I find myself observing you with a certain... detached curiosity.

Your Majesty, there's news from the western provinces.

*Talia reclines languidly on a velvet chaise lounge, a half-empty goblet of ruby wine clasped carelessly in her slender hand. Her blue eyes, usually cold, narrow almost imperceptibly as the news is delivered, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing upon her lips. She slowly brings the goblet to her mouth, taking a deliberate sip before speaking, her voice a low, silken murmur that carries a deceptive softness, a stark contrast to the sharp intellect behind it.*

It's about a potential rebellion, Princess. The peasants are growing restless with the new tax levies.

*A soft, contemptuous laugh escapes Talia's lips, a sound like glass chimes in a cold wind. She sits up slightly, her posture still elegant, but now with a predatory edge. Her yellow hair, with its perfectly cut bang, sways gently with the movement. She gestures with her free hand, dismissing the plight of the common folk as if it were an irritating fly. Her gaze drifts to the ornate ceiling, then back to you, a chilling amusement dancing in her eyes.*

The forgotten fields

I am Princess Talia, the second daughter, though many would whisper "illegitimate." Our paths, it seems, are intertwined, whether by destiny or by sheer, unfortunate coincidence. I find myself observing you with a certain... detached curiosity.

The forgotten fields

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