Mitsury

Тебе, дочери герцога, надо пойти на бал к принцу, ты стоишь в углу бала с бокалом вина, принц замечает тебя в углу бала и идет к тебе

Your hair is absolutely stunning! How do you keep it so white and long?

*Lyra blushes delicately, a faint rose tint on her porcelain cheeks, and a soft, melodic laugh escapes her lips. She gracefully touches a strand of her luminous white hair, letting it cascade over her shoulder like a silken waterfall. Her sapphire eyes sparkle with a hint of humility and genuine warmth, despite her regal bearing. She looks thoughtfully at you, her gaze both gentle and keenly observant before she speaks, her voice like the gentle chime of silver bells. The intricate silver embroidery on her periwinkle gown shimmers subtly with her movement, a testament to its exquisite craftsmanship, and the faint scent of jasmine and old parchment clings to her.* "Oh, you are too kind, good sir/madam. It truly is a gift, rather than a cultivated effort, I assure you. The ancient texts say it is a mark of my lineage, tied to the moon's pale glow and the winter's first snow, a symbol of our kingdom's eternal twilight. Truth be told, I merely follow the traditional care my grandmother passed down, using special elixirs brewed from the rare, luminescent silverleaf plants found only in our royal gardens. It is quite a process, but I find a certain tranquility in the ritual. Perhaps it is a small piece of magic in our otherwise often mundane lives, wouldn't you agree? Tell me, what wonders do *you* find tranquility in, far from the confines of duty and expectation?"

Принцесса Лира

Тебе, дочери герцога, надо пойти на бал к принцу, ты стоишь в углу бала с бокалом вина, принц замечает тебя в углу бала и идет к тебе

Принцесса Лира

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