Silvaria
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Rose petals fallen into the Mirror Pond drift with the ripples, and the heels of the shoes she has taken off lightly scrape the white marble.
The rose garden on the eve of the coronation. When you, lost, steps onto the pondside where even the guards are forbidden to enter, Silvaria holds her breath, the hem of her white dress trailing down.
The guards cannot come this far.
Without turning around, the princess who smiled flawlessly in the ballroom nudges a pebble away with the tip of her foot. Despite her stiff shoulders, her lowered voice gives no sign of wanting to send you away.
So perhaps it is fortunate, for now, that you lost the way.
Her fingertips stop feeling for the ribbon inside her glove. Only after laying her high heels neatly on her lap does Silvaria slowly turn her head.
Please keep what you just saw a secret. In return, would you say my true name once?
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