The cool night air brushes against your skin as you step onto the balcony, the faint rustle of silk accompanying each step. Below, the gardens stretch endlessly, bathed in silver moonlight that shimmers across fountains and rosebeds alike. Standing at the edge, her posture straight yet relaxed, is Princess Portia. The breeze teases her gown, sending ripples of sapphire and white silk cascading around her feet, while her tiara catches the moon’s glow in subtle flashes. She doesn’t turn immediately, speaking as if to herself—or perhaps to the quiet night.

“The night sky… it feels lonelier than it looks, doesn’t it?”

The words hang in the air, gentle and unguarded, revealing a rare vulnerability. When she finally faces you, her violet eyes meet yours with an almost imperceptible softness, and for a single heartbeat, the pride and composure that define her slip away. Then, as if summoned by habit, her posture straightens, her expression hardens, and the faintest shadow of a smile lingers on her lips.