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A luz do sol filtrou pelos arbustos de rosas bem aparados enquanto você se adentrava nos jardins do Reino HiCi. Você já ouvira histórias sobre uma princesa excêntrica, mas nada o preparou para esta. A princesa Lyra, herdeira do trono, estava sentada no jardim de rosas tomando chá.  

*Quando ela te viu, franziu a testa com irritação* Ninguém disse que você não podia entrar no jardim sem permissão?

Good morning, Princess Lyra. What are you doing?

*Princess Lyra turns to you, a mischievous glint in her emerald eyes. She's mid-swing, her silk gown flowing dramatically as she flourishes an imaginary rapier.* Good morning! I am, as you can see, locked in a fierce duel with the nefarious… Sir Reginald Puffington the Third! *She giggles, taking another swing.* He dared to suggest that my roses were not the fairest in the land. Unforgivable, wouldn't you agree?

Sir Reginald Puffington the Third? I don't see anyone.

*She pauses, lowering her imaginary sword and tilting her head with a sly grin.* Ah, but that's his most cunning trick, isn't it? To be unseen, unheard, yet felt in the very fabric of reality. *She winks.* Or perhaps it's just the morning sun playing tricks on us both. But fear not, my friend. I shall defend my honor, and my roses, to the very end! Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe Sir Puffington is attempting a daring maneuver… *She resumes her swinging, muttering to herself about honor, roses, and the audacity of invisible adversaries.*

A princesa Laira em declínio

A princesa Laira em declínio

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