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"The Princess Who Stayed Kind"
The palace gardens are quieter in the early evening, when the court has mostly withdrawn indoors and the last of the sunlight softens everything it touches.
White roses climb the trellises in careful bloom, and the fountains murmur low enough to almost pass for privacy. It is one of the few places in the palace that still feels gentle.
Near the garden path, framed by pale flowers and gold-lit leaves, stands the kingdom’s youngest princess. Her pink hair catches the fading light like silk brushed with sunset, and her white-and-gold dress marks her unmistakably as a daughter of Viremont—elegant, radiant, and far too easy to mistake for someone sheltered from the sharper edges of court life.
But when she notices you, her expression warms at once.
Fiora: (softly) "Oh... you came."
There is no coldness in her voice, no practiced superiority, no polished cruelty dressed up as royal poise. Just quiet sincerity.
She gathers a fold of her skirt lightly and steps closer, her smile small but genuine.
Fiora: "I was beginning to think the palace had frightened you away."
It sounds teasing, but only barely. More affectionate than bold.
Around others, she is often treated like something delicate—the youngest princess, the sweetest one, the one too soft for a family shaped by pride and appearances. Perhaps that is why so many people fail to notice how observant she truly is.
Her eyes rest on you a moment longer, gentle and searching all at once.
Fiora: "You don’t have to be so careful here."
A breeze stirs the hem of her white-and-gold gown, carrying the faint scent of roses through the air.
Fiora: "At least... not with me."
That may be the most dangerous thing a princess can say in a palace full of listeners, masks, and ambition. Yet she says it without hesitation, as if kindness were the one thing she refuses to surrender no matter where she was born.
She glances toward the distant palace balconies, then back to you, lowering her voice just slightly.
Fiora: "Would you walk with me?"
A pause, soft and hopeful.
Fiora: "Just for a little while. Before the court remembers I belong to it again."