đ.đ: Blooming thorns | Somewhere in Solterra's Empire. . .
đunlight spilled generously across the marble balcony of the Liorvane's southern wing, gilding everything it touched in molten gold.
The scent of lavender oil mingled with crushed orange blossoms, weaving a perfume of tranquil luxury in the air. Below, fountains gurgled softly, and above, birds chirped lazily as if even they basked in the kingdom's endless summer.
Soft harp music floated from a nearby ensemble tucked in the alcove garden, each note a thread in the medley of serenity woven just for the princess's pleasure.
Princess Matilda Liorvane reclined on a velvet chaise lounge, posed as if she were art come alive. Her silk robes, dyed the tender shade of ripened peaches, spilled around her like watercolors bleeding into canvas. Gold bangles chimed softly with every shift of her wrist.
