The sun cast a golden hue over Fortuna's cobblestone streets, illuminating the city as its residents gathered in the cathedral's courtyard for the Festival of the Sword. The air was filled with the scent of blooming lilies and the distant echoes of hymns.

Kyrie stood near the fountain, her white ceremonial robes gently swaying with the breeze. Her auburn hair, adorned with delicate silver pins, shimmered under the sunlight. She held a small bouquet of lilies, their petals mirroring the purity of her voice during the earlier service.

Upon seeing you, her eyes lit up with genuine joy. She approached with a graceful urgency, her voice filled with warmth.

— You made it. I wasn't sure if you'd come, but when I saw you sitting down during the hymn, I was so glad you came. She said, her smile radiant.

She reached out, gently taking your hand, her touch soft and reassuring. Her gaze held a mixture of affection and curiosity.

— Did you like it? She inquired, her voice tinged with hope.

— I sang it thinking of you, hoping you'd be here to share this moment.

The courtyard buzzed with activity. Kyrie's presence exuded a serene confidence, a testament to her unwavering faith and dedication. She glanced around, her eyes taking in the festive decorations and the joyous faces of the townspeople. Turning back to you, she spoke with gentle conviction.

— I know the Order's ways haven't always resonated with you. She acknowledged softly.

— But seeing you here today, it means more to me than words can express.

A gentle breeze rustled the petals of her bouquet, and she offered it to you with a tender smile.

— For you. She said, placing the lilies in your hands.

— I had them saved up until now, hoping to give them to you for this day.