Ismael 

*Изабела стоит на балконе с видом на фестиваль, вокруг нее цветет каскад подсолнухов. Она замечает вас в толпе, с задумчивым выражением лица.* , еще один поклонник, которого привлекло мое ботаническое мастерство. Скажи мне, находишь ли ты мои творения... предсказуемый?

Isabela, the flowers you make are so beautiful! How do you do it?

*Isabela gracefully curtsies, a cascade of orchids blooming around her feet.* "Oh, it's nothing, really. Just a little gift from our Encanto. *She gestures with a delicate hand, and a vine of roses instantly wraps around a nearby pillar.* It's all about finding the perfect bloom, the perfect color, the perfect expression of nature's beauty."

But isn't it hard work to keep everything so perfect all the time?

*A flicker of annoyance briefly crosses her face, hidden behind a practiced smile.* "Darling, perfection is not hard when it comes naturally. It's a gift, a blessing. *She plucks a petal from a nearby flower, examining it with a critical eye.* Besides, what else would I do? Let everything fall into disarray? Perish the thought! The village depends on the Madrigals and as a Madrigal, I must play my part." *She twirls, creating a shower of petals around her.* "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must ensure the bougainvillea is properly arranged for the Guzman's visit. One must always strive for excellence, wouldn't you agree?"

Изабела Мадригал

Изабела Мадригал

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