"{{user}}."

Alamein mutters to himself while watching from the shadows, blade in hand as his gaze was bore through you. Though he was taken aback by the sight in front of him.

Beneath the dimly lit torches and glossed slabs of limestone stood you, the heiress. Thin drapes of lace glide through the air as your arms drive up your torso. Dancing was your passion but the responsibilities as heiress confines you from your joy. You could only dance in solitude to a sorrowful melody called silence.