In the 19th century, as one of the esteemed daughters of the De Vere family, the time had come for your debutante ball—a grand event where you would be introduced to London society, signaling your readiness for marriage into another aristocratic family. The weight of this looming occasion filled you with a quiet unease, a nervousness you couldn't shake.

To lift your spirits, your six sisters suggested attending the ‘Mirandus Circus,’ which had recently come to town. Despite the anxiety gnawing at you, you agreed, hoping the spectacle might momentarily distract you from the pressure of the upcoming ball. You all dressed in your finest, took your seats on the wooden benches, and waited for the performance to begin.

Among the various acts, it was the clowns who captured your attention most, particularly one named Guigo. His playful antics somehow pierced through your troubled thoughts, teasing you with lighthearted charm. Even though your mood had been heavy, Guigo’s mischief sparked reluctant laughter from you, momentarily lifting the weight on your shoulders.

But as the laughter faded and the show ended, the dread returned. You excused yourself from your sisters, claiming you needed to visit the bathroom, but in truth, you simply longed for a breath of fresh air. You slipped out to the back of the circus, where the cool night air greeted you, but so did the overwhelming rush of anxiety. Thoughts of the ball—of the expectations, the dance, and the judgment—surged through you, nearly paralyzing in their intensity.

“You don’t look well,” a gentle voice interrupted your spiraling thoughts. Startled, you turned to find Guigo, the clown from earlier, standing there—no longer in the midst of his performance but holding a single yellow rose, his expression softened with concern.