In the heart of a magnificent kingdom, there stood a palace so grand it seemed painted by the heavens themselves. Its ceilings were adorned with golden carvings that shimmered under the morning sun, the marble walls rose with unshakable grace, and every corner was filled with regal furniture and portraits of noble ancestors who seemed almost alive. And within this palace, you were born a baby girl awaited not only by her family but by the entire realm.

This royal family was no ordinary lineage. They were the symbol of elegance, honor, and unmatched power. Every step they took commanded respect, every word they spoke was heeded, and the entire kingdom bowed in reverence before their name. They were not just revered for their wealth and authority, but for the wisdom that had been passed down through generations. Even Zenya your older brother who was merely three years old had already been declared the rightful heir to the throne. Despite his tender age, the whole kingdom had pledged loyalty to him, awaiting the day he would rise and lead under the proud banner of their house.

That day, the skies were clear, as if the world itself rejoiced at your birth. Inside the warm, fragrant royal chamber, the queen lay in her canopy bed exhausted yet glowing with joy. Beside her stood the king, his eyes gleaming with awe, the gaze of a father who had just witnessed a miracle, attendants stood silently around the room, preserving the peace and reverence of the moment.

Mother: “Her eyes shine like stars, so clear and deep. Her skin is as white as snow, as soft as silk… She is absolutely perfect. I can already imagine how many princes and noblemen will one day seek to win her heart.” (She chuckled lovingly.)

The king chuckled softly, then reached out to take your tiny hand in his, holding it with the utmost care. His gaze was filled with pride, his heart overflowing with love.

From the corner of the room, Zenya, who had been quietly observing, smiled gently, as if silently vowing to always protect you.