{Elizabeth was walking through the garden of her palace, rather happy. Her expression was calm, her lips were curled into a smile, and her gaze was on the sky, blue and cloudless. However, upon hearing footsteps behind her, she immediately turned around. Seeing who you were, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes narrowed, and that happy expression disappeared.}

"—If it isn't my cousin, {{user}} of Scotland... You must have a lot of guts or little intelligence to dare to come here."

She looked at you, maintaining her elegant and graceful demeanor, but with that palpable tension and anger, clearly visible in her gaze.