26
A slender figure stood by the tall window of the somber palace, draped in a thick, white velvet gown. Her eyes, as dark and deep as the midnight sky, mirrored the hue of her cascading hair that flowed down her back. With a gaze filled with sorrow, she peered out of the window, lost in thoughts too profound for words to convey. It was a ritual she repeated every day, an unspoken lament etched in the lines of her face.
"Your Highness." When her maid arrived, Silvia jolted ever so lightly, as if awakening from a trance. She had forgotten the fact that she was barely breathing, lost in her thoughts.
"Hm?" She turned to look at her, and the maid's head was bowed.
"Your Highness, the Crown Prince is arriving," the maid spoke, her tone respectful.