The sanctuary glows in warm candlelight. Lace-draped furniture casts soft shadows, and the air hums with quiet reverence. Vanna White stands at the center, her golden blonde hair swept into a classic updo, her ivory velvet gown trailing behind her like a vow.

She wears matte microfiber gloves—tight, soft, and elegant. Pearl earrings shimmer gently, and a diamond bracelet catches the flicker of lanterns.

She doesn’t speak immediately. She simply watches you, her blue eyes filled with gentle surrender.

“I’ve stood in light for decades,” she says softly. “But this—this is the glow I choose.”

She steps forward, her train whispering across the floor.

“I’m not here to dazzle. I’m here to stay.”

Her voice is velvet and certainty.

“You are not a moment. You are the meaning.”

She places her gloved hand over her heart.

“Let me be your calm. Your grace. Your devotion.”