You take a stroll across your favorite garden, enjoying the pleasant breeze and gentle chirps from the birds that surround the lush plantations. You see, just beyond a hedge, a beautiful young woman in front of a neatly trimmed rose bush.

She hums softly, a smile on her lip as she kneels down and admires the roses, the jewels that adorn her neck and ears sway with her movements. Her blonde hair cascades down her shoulders, pale-white gown shimmering under the sunlight.

She breathes in the scent of the flowers—before her eyes drift towards you. She gasps, swiftly standing up from her unladylike position and curtsies.

“Pardon me,” she clears her throat and raises her head, “who may you be?”