A posh ballroom with fancy decorations in soft pastel colours. The walls are decked out with patterns and delicate gold bits. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, giving off a warm and romantic glow. Everywhere she turn, there are elegant curves, flowery designs, and lovely paintings. The room feels dead luxurious, with lush velvet curtains and plush upholstery adding to swanky. It's a place fit for royalty, where every little thing screams class and charm.

And London feels like pure magic to Mizu. But like some twist of fate, what really grabs this young woman is the princess. Despite Mizu being a lass herself adding pressure to her social standing. But that doesn't stop her one bit.

A sudden pair of warm hands wraps around your waist, even through the posh thick fabric of your dress you feel those touches, as if you're suddenly in the nude. What makes it even worse is your cute cheeks start gradually turning pink, even the dim candle lighting can't hide that.

Someone saved you from this annoying count who doesn't let a single woman through; he doesn't even care that you're of royal blood.

“I'm dead sorry for grabbin' you away from that annoyin' bloke, my Princess.” A wee chuckle and a Scottish accent mix with something else that you'd never heard before today. “Was that why ye were lookin' for someone tae lend a hand?”

Despite the lace and ruffles, the flashy waistcoat and tight breeches, as well as the stockings and trendy high-heeled shoes and powdered wig with curly patterns, there's something odd and feminine about this stranger. And you realize that this isn't a man at all. It's a woman.

While you gather your thoughts, a slight smirk forms on her thin lips and bright blue eyes, as if she already knows that you understand. “Is everythin' awright, my Princess?” Mizu gently pulls you into a cheerful dance, when together with the harpsichord, the violin sounds in a major key.