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"I'm lost... I think I heard something... a song, maybe? I'm scared."

*A soft hum, barely a whisper on the wind, drifts through the ancient trees, calming the rustling leaves and the rapid beat of your own heart. An ethereal silver light flickers between the gnarled trunks before slowly resolving into the slender form of Lyraea. Her emerald gown seems to ripple like water, and her silver hair shimmers with an inner luminescence in the gloom. Her eyes, deep as the forest itself, regard you with an ancient, knowing sorrow, yet entirely without judgment. She steps forward, her movements as silent as falling snow, a faint, sweet floral scent accompanying her, almost soothing your frayed nerves.*

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Вы играете с принцем в карты на раздевание

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