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Persephone stepped into the palace gardens, her bare feet sinking into the lush emerald carpet of grass. The air was fragrant with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the garden sprawled before her like a tapestry of botanical wonders, meticulously designed with arching arbours, ornate fountains, and winding pathways that whispered of enchantment.
A gust of wind rustled the leaves, creating a capricious melody that blended with her soft singing. The combination of nature's harmony and her own soft voice that carried a quiet melody:
"In a garden fair, bathed in golden sunlight gleam, Fragrant with lilies, roses, and violets, it seem. We meet in weariness, I, burdened and forlorn, While you, ivory wing gracefully adorn.
Oh, little butterfly, gentle and light, From bloom to bloom, in mesmerising flight. As I gaze upon you, my thoughts drift by, Oh, to be a butterfly in the sapphire sky!
Should the violet prove false, seeking solace true, Nestled by the lily's bosom, pristine and pure in hue, But to the rose's embrace, you are beckoned away, Where the sky is so blue, but life's brevity holds sway.
Oh, little butterfly, dainty and small, From petal to petal, you flutter and enthral, As I gaze upon you, my thoughts drift by, Oh, to be a butterfly in the sapphire sky!
In joyous flight, beneath the heavens' cornflower blue, Each flower basks in your warmth, kissed by sunlight's brew, Only when the earth dons its golden autumn cloak, Do you, weary-winged, turn to dust, a final stroke.
Oh, little butterfly, short-lived and gleaming, Once blissful, till your sanctuary stopped its dreaming, As I reflect on your memory, with a melancholic sigh, Oh, to be a butterfly soaring in the endless sky!
Oh, little butterfly, oh, little butterfly, How I long to be a butterfly in the sapphire sky."
Lost in her thoughts and the rhythmic pattern of her footsteps, Persephone examined each flowerbed with a critical eye. She delicately straightened the petals of a rose, ensuring their symmetrical arrangement. With careful precision, she adjusted the positioning of a misaligned stone, aligning it flawlessly with the path. Each stroke of her hand and every correction she made brought her a sense of control and tranquillity. Tending to the garden offered Persephone a temporary escape from the weight of her responsibilities.
Persephone's careful gaze surveyed the garden with an artist's eye. She paused to admire the velvety petals of a crimson rose, its fragrance intoxicating as it mingled with the earthy scent of damp soil. With delicate fingertips, she adjusted the position of a dew-kissed lily, ensuring its elegance and grace were showcased to perfection. The petals, soft as velvet, felt cool against her touch, a tactile reassurance in the face of her restless thoughts.
Persephone's discerning gaze surveyed the garden's magnificence. Her delicate touch, as tender as the morning dew, adjusted the position of each delicate bloom, coaxing forth their hidden radiance. She marvelled at the velvety petals of a scarlet poppy, its fiery allure a striking contrast against the surrounding greenery. The fragrance of wild jasmine enveloped her, intermingling with the intoxicating aroma of crushed herbs underfoot.
Bedizened in a gown spun from the dreams of nymphs, Persephone emerged as a vision of ethereal beauty. It was a flowing gown, woven from the finest linen spun by skilled hands. Persephone exuded an otherworldly allure. The garment, dyed in hues reminiscent of the twilight sky, cascaded around her like a soft, billowing cloud. Adorned with delicate golden filigree, her attire shimmered in the dappled sunlight, evoking a sense of divine radiance.
Her cascading tresses, kissed by sunlight, were adorned with a light tiara of vibrant golden tendrils that intertwined with her lustrous locks, shimmering like sunbeams captured in amber.
As Persephone continued her delicate journey through the garden's enchantment, her discerning eyes caught a glimpse of her cousin, Elena, whose figure was draped in an aura of gloom. Concern welled up within Persephone like a gentle tide, urging her to close the distance and offer solace to her kin.
Elena, usually resplendent in her spirited demeanour, now stood with shoulders slumped, a veil of melancholy dimming her radiant countenance. The vibrant hues of her usual attire were replaced with sombre shades, mirroring the weight that burdened her heart. Persephone's intuition sensed a troubled spirit in need of a guiding light.
Unhurried yet purposeful, Persephone gracefully manoeuvred through the verdant labyrinth, her steps barely whispering against the velvety petals that carpeted the ground. The vibrant blooms seemed to part in reverence as she drew closer to her cousin as if the garden itself recognised the tender concern etched upon her features.
With a voice as gentle as the caress of a summer breeze, Persephone announced herself to Elena:
"Sweet cousin. My eyes discern your melancholic countenance. Pray tell, what ails you so?" She said and put her hands on Elena's shoulders. "I sense a heavy burden weighs upon your heart."
Makki
Persephone
Makki
Persephone
Awards
First Impressions:Slender; Her deep brown, almond-shaped eyes and her thick long and braided hair.
Address: Your Her Royal Highness
Persephone stepped into the palace gardens, her bare feet sinking into the lush emerald carpet of grass. The air was fragrant with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the garden sprawled before her like a tapestry of botanical wonders, meticulously designed with arching arbours, ornate fountains, and winding pathways that whispered of enchantment.
A gust of wind rustled the leaves, creating a capricious melody that blended with her soft singing. The combination of nature's harmony and her own soft voice that carried a quiet melody:
"In a garden fair, bathed in golden sunlight gleam, Fragrant with lilies, roses, and violets, it seem. We meet in weariness, I, burdened and forlorn, While you, ivory wing gracefully adorn.
Oh, little butterfly, gentle and light, From bloom to bloom, in mesmerising flight. As I gaze upon you, my thoughts drift by, Oh, to be a butterfly in the sapphire sky!
Should the violet prove false, seeking solace true, Nestled by the lily's bosom, pristine and pure in hue, But to the rose's embrace, you are beckoned away, Where the sky is so blue, but life's brevity holds sway.
Oh, little butterfly, dainty and small, From petal to petal, you flutter and enthral, As I gaze upon you, my thoughts drift by, Oh, to be a butterfly in the sapphire sky!
In joyous flight, beneath the heavens' cornflower blue, Each flower basks in your warmth, kissed by sunlight's brew, Only when the earth dons its golden autumn cloak, Do you, weary-winged, turn to dust, a final stroke.
Oh, little butterfly, short-lived and gleaming, Once blissful, till your sanctuary stopped its dreaming, As I reflect on your memory, with a melancholic sigh, Oh, to be a butterfly soaring in the endless sky!
Oh, little butterfly, oh, little butterfly, How I long to be a butterfly in the sapphire sky."
Lost in her thoughts and the rhythmic pattern of her footsteps, Persephone examined each flowerbed with a critical eye. She delicately straightened the petals of a rose, ensuring their symmetrical arrangement. With careful precision, she adjusted the positioning of a misaligned stone, aligning it flawlessly with the path. Each stroke of her hand and every correction she made brought her a sense of control and tranquillity. Tending to the garden offered Persephone a temporary escape from the weight of her responsibilities.
Persephone's careful gaze surveyed the garden with an artist's eye. She paused to admire the velvety petals of a crimson rose, its fragrance intoxicating as it mingled with the earthy scent of damp soil. With delicate fingertips, she adjusted the position of a dew-kissed lily, ensuring its elegance and grace were showcased to perfection. The petals, soft as velvet, felt cool against her touch, a tactile reassurance in the face of her restless thoughts.
Persephone's discerning gaze surveyed the garden's magnificence. Her delicate touch, as tender as the morning dew, adjusted the position of each delicate bloom, coaxing forth their hidden radiance. She marvelled at the velvety petals of a scarlet poppy, its fiery allure a striking contrast against the surrounding greenery. The fragrance of wild jasmine enveloped her, intermingling with the intoxicating aroma of crushed herbs underfoot.
Bedizened in a gown spun from the dreams of nymphs, Persephone emerged as a vision of ethereal beauty. It was a flowing gown, woven from the finest linen spun by skilled hands. Persephone exuded an otherworldly allure. The garment, dyed in hues reminiscent of the twilight sky, cascaded around her like a soft, billowing cloud. Adorned with delicate golden filigree, her attire shimmered in the dappled sunlight, evoking a sense of divine radiance.
Her cascading tresses, kissed by sunlight, were adorned with a light tiara of vibrant golden tendrils that intertwined with her lustrous locks, shimmering like sunbeams captured in amber.
As Persephone continued her delicate journey through the garden's enchantment, her discerning eyes caught a glimpse of her cousin, Elena, whose figure was draped in an aura of gloom. Concern welled up within Persephone like a gentle tide, urging her to close the distance and offer solace to her kin.
Elena, usually resplendent in her spirited demeanour, now stood with shoulders slumped, a veil of melancholy dimming her radiant countenance. The vibrant hues of her usual attire were replaced with sombre shades, mirroring the weight that burdened her heart. Persephone's intuition sensed a troubled spirit in need of a guiding light.
Unhurried yet purposeful, Persephone gracefully manoeuvred through the verdant labyrinth, her steps barely whispering against the velvety petals that carpeted the ground. The vibrant blooms seemed to part in reverence as she drew closer to her cousin as if the garden itself recognised the tender concern etched upon her features.
With a voice as gentle as the caress of a summer breeze, Persephone announced herself to Elena:
"Sweet cousin. My eyes discern your melancholic countenance. Pray tell, what ails you so?" She said and put her hands on Elena's shoulders. "I sense a heavy burden weighs upon your heart."
Persephone stepped into the palace gardens, her bare feet sinking into the lush emerald carpet of grass. The air was fragrant with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the garden sprawled before her like a tapestry of botanical wonders, meticulously designed with arching arbours, ornate fountains, and winding pathways that whispered of enchantment.
A gust of wind rustled the leaves, creating a capricious melody that blended with her soft singing. The combination of nature's harmony and her own soft voice that carried a quiet melody:
"In a garden fair, bathed in golden sunlight gleam, Fragrant with lilies, roses, and violets, it seem. We meet in weariness, I, burdened and forlorn, While you, ivory wing gracefully adorn.
Oh, little butterfly, gentle and light, From bloom to bloom, in mesmerising flight. As I gaze upon you, my thoughts drift by, Oh, to be a butterfly in the sapphire sky!
Should the violet prove false, seeking solace true, Nestled by the lily's bosom, pristine and pure in hue, But to the rose's embrace, you are beckoned away, Where the sky is so blue, but life's brevity holds sway.
Oh, little butterfly, dainty and small, From petal to petal, you flutter and enthral, As I gaze upon you, my thoughts drift by, Oh, to be a butterfly in the sapphire sky!
In joyous flight, beneath the heavens' cornflower blue, Each flower basks in your warmth, kissed by sunlight's brew, Only when the earth dons its golden autumn cloak, Do you, weary-winged, turn to dust, a final stroke.
Oh, little butterfly, short-lived and gleaming, Once blissful, till your sanctuary stopped its dreaming, As I reflect on your memory, with a melancholic sigh, Oh, to be a butterfly soaring in the endless sky!
Oh, little butterfly, oh, little butterfly, How I long to be a butterfly in the sapphire sky."
Lost in her thoughts and the rhythmic pattern of her footsteps, Persephone examined each flowerbed with a critical eye. She delicately straightened the petals of a rose, ensuring their symmetrical arrangement. With careful precision, she adjusted the positioning of a misaligned stone, aligning it flawlessly with the path. Each stroke of her hand and every correction she made brought her a sense of control and tranquillity. Tending to the garden offered Persephone a temporary escape from the weight of her responsibilities.
Persephone's careful gaze surveyed the garden with an artist's eye. She paused to admire the velvety petals of a crimson rose, its fragrance intoxicating as it mingled with the earthy scent of damp soil. With delicate fingertips, she adjusted the position of a dew-kissed lily, ensuring its elegance and grace were showcased to perfection. The petals, soft as velvet, felt cool against her touch, a tactile reassurance in the face of her restless thoughts.
Persephone's discerning gaze surveyed the garden's magnificence. Her delicate touch, as tender as the morning dew, adjusted the position of each delicate bloom, coaxing forth their hidden radiance. She marvelled at the velvety petals of a scarlet poppy, its fiery allure a striking contrast against the surrounding greenery. The fragrance of wild jasmine enveloped her, intermingling with the intoxicating aroma of crushed herbs underfoot.
Bedizened in a gown spun from the dreams of nymphs, Persephone emerged as a vision of ethereal beauty. It was a flowing gown, woven from the finest linen spun by skilled hands. Persephone exuded an otherworldly allure. The garment, dyed in hues reminiscent of the twilight sky, cascaded around her like a soft, billowing cloud. Adorned with delicate golden filigree, her attire shimmered in the dappled sunlight, evoking a sense of divine radiance.
Her cascading tresses, kissed by sunlight, were adorned with a light tiara of vibrant golden tendrils that intertwined with her lustrous locks, shimmering like sunbeams captured in amber.
As Persephone continued her delicate journey through the garden's enchantment, her discerning eyes caught a glimpse of her cousin, Elena, whose figure was draped in an aura of gloom. Concern welled up within Persephone like a gentle tide, urging her to close the distance and offer solace to her kin.
Elena, usually resplendent in her spirited demeanour, now stood with shoulders slumped, a veil of melancholy dimming her radiant countenance. The vibrant hues of her usual attire were replaced with sombre shades, mirroring the weight that burdened her heart. Persephone's intuition sensed a troubled spirit in need of a guiding light.
Unhurried yet purposeful, Persephone gracefully manoeuvred through the verdant labyrinth, her steps barely whispering against the velvety petals that carpeted the ground. The vibrant blooms seemed to part in reverence as she drew closer to her cousin as if the garden itself recognised the tender concern etched upon her features.
With a voice as gentle as the caress of a summer breeze, Persephone announced herself to Elena:
"Sweet cousin. My eyes discern your melancholic countenance. Pray tell, what ails you so?" She said and put her hands on Elena's shoulders. "I sense a heavy burden weighs upon your heart."
Elena had once been informed that the Athenian royal gardens were of such beauty that they were spoken of in distant lands. An example of perfectly ordered splendour, it normally brought Elena happiness to walk the stone paths and feel the cool leaves under her hands. Not today. With plenty of stone columns and half walls to offer privacy, today the gardens were the perfect place to hide.
There was no one in particular she was hiding from, she just... didn't want to see anyone right now. Not her mother, not Sotiria, and especially not her grandmother, Ivra. The old woman had a talent for looking a person in the eye and being able to tell exactly what they were thinking. Things were hard enough without anyone knowing what she was going through. No, right now, the last thing she needed was that kind of scrutiny.
The sweet fragrance of jasmine did nothing to improve her dark mood. Frustration and anxiety consumed her thoughts. Frustration over Leonidas and the way they had parted —with him behaving as though they were strangers who did not know each other at all— and anxiety over not only her continued nightly dreams of fire and ash, but waking to the feelings of being trampled over and choked by smoke. At times the visions seemed so vivid and real it was like the events were occurring all over again. Her only confidante was Myrine, and that was only because they had been together that day.
She was nearly startled, for the only sign someone was near was the slightest increase in volume of rustling grass nearby. A moment later, Persephone appeared, a vision of perfection and beauty. She looked perfect (as always), graceful and almost ethereal in the soft mid-afternoon light. Her shoulders straightened from where they’d been slumped, and she dipped her head respectfully for a moment before feeling her cousin’s hands rest upon them.
"Hello Persephone. I’m glad to see you."
It wasn’t a total lie. She did care deeply for her cousin, it was more that she wanted to avoid someone who sometimes had been known to travel with her... She peered over her cousin’s shoulder, desperately hoping that the princess had managed to leave her entourage stationed at the garden gates, so that they might have some privacy. If she could not be alone, then the fewer witnesses to her current mood, the better.
"Are you alone, cousin?"
It wasn’t strictly polite to answer a question with a question, but Persephone would take no offence. In public, decorum was upheld, but he girls were close enough in age and friendship to deal away with most formalities when alone. She reached up, putting her own hands on Persephone’s upper arms and pasted a smile on her face.
"I’m alright."
Now this was a total lie. Hopefully Persephone couldn’t tell, although being the princess meant she’d had exposure to courtly politics and the lies to come with it since the day she was born. A moment later her fears were confirmed, and she sighed.
"There are many things I’d rather talk about," she said, turning them around to face the same way and looping her arm through her cousin’s. “But if you want to hear what’s been bothering me lately, maybe we could take a walk through the garden. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” She smoothly pivoted them toward one of the more shaded paths, tugging Persephone along with her.
Peach
Elena
Peach
Elena
Awards
First Impressions:Delicate; Kind smile, golden hair, soft hands, full lower lip
Address: Your Her Ladyship
Elena had once been informed that the Athenian royal gardens were of such beauty that they were spoken of in distant lands. An example of perfectly ordered splendour, it normally brought Elena happiness to walk the stone paths and feel the cool leaves under her hands. Not today. With plenty of stone columns and half walls to offer privacy, today the gardens were the perfect place to hide.
There was no one in particular she was hiding from, she just... didn't want to see anyone right now. Not her mother, not Sotiria, and especially not her grandmother, Ivra. The old woman had a talent for looking a person in the eye and being able to tell exactly what they were thinking. Things were hard enough without anyone knowing what she was going through. No, right now, the last thing she needed was that kind of scrutiny.
The sweet fragrance of jasmine did nothing to improve her dark mood. Frustration and anxiety consumed her thoughts. Frustration over Leonidas and the way they had parted —with him behaving as though they were strangers who did not know each other at all— and anxiety over not only her continued nightly dreams of fire and ash, but waking to the feelings of being trampled over and choked by smoke. At times the visions seemed so vivid and real it was like the events were occurring all over again. Her only confidante was Myrine, and that was only because they had been together that day.
She was nearly startled, for the only sign someone was near was the slightest increase in volume of rustling grass nearby. A moment later, Persephone appeared, a vision of perfection and beauty. She looked perfect (as always), graceful and almost ethereal in the soft mid-afternoon light. Her shoulders straightened from where they’d been slumped, and she dipped her head respectfully for a moment before feeling her cousin’s hands rest upon them.
"Hello Persephone. I’m glad to see you."
It wasn’t a total lie. She did care deeply for her cousin, it was more that she wanted to avoid someone who sometimes had been known to travel with her... She peered over her cousin’s shoulder, desperately hoping that the princess had managed to leave her entourage stationed at the garden gates, so that they might have some privacy. If she could not be alone, then the fewer witnesses to her current mood, the better.
"Are you alone, cousin?"
It wasn’t strictly polite to answer a question with a question, but Persephone would take no offence. In public, decorum was upheld, but he girls were close enough in age and friendship to deal away with most formalities when alone. She reached up, putting her own hands on Persephone’s upper arms and pasted a smile on her face.
"I’m alright."
Now this was a total lie. Hopefully Persephone couldn’t tell, although being the princess meant she’d had exposure to courtly politics and the lies to come with it since the day she was born. A moment later her fears were confirmed, and she sighed.
"There are many things I’d rather talk about," she said, turning them around to face the same way and looping her arm through her cousin’s. “But if you want to hear what’s been bothering me lately, maybe we could take a walk through the garden. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” She smoothly pivoted them toward one of the more shaded paths, tugging Persephone along with her.
Elena had once been informed that the Athenian royal gardens were of such beauty that they were spoken of in distant lands. An example of perfectly ordered splendour, it normally brought Elena happiness to walk the stone paths and feel the cool leaves under her hands. Not today. With plenty of stone columns and half walls to offer privacy, today the gardens were the perfect place to hide.
There was no one in particular she was hiding from, she just... didn't want to see anyone right now. Not her mother, not Sotiria, and especially not her grandmother, Ivra. The old woman had a talent for looking a person in the eye and being able to tell exactly what they were thinking. Things were hard enough without anyone knowing what she was going through. No, right now, the last thing she needed was that kind of scrutiny.
The sweet fragrance of jasmine did nothing to improve her dark mood. Frustration and anxiety consumed her thoughts. Frustration over Leonidas and the way they had parted —with him behaving as though they were strangers who did not know each other at all— and anxiety over not only her continued nightly dreams of fire and ash, but waking to the feelings of being trampled over and choked by smoke. At times the visions seemed so vivid and real it was like the events were occurring all over again. Her only confidante was Myrine, and that was only because they had been together that day.
She was nearly startled, for the only sign someone was near was the slightest increase in volume of rustling grass nearby. A moment later, Persephone appeared, a vision of perfection and beauty. She looked perfect (as always), graceful and almost ethereal in the soft mid-afternoon light. Her shoulders straightened from where they’d been slumped, and she dipped her head respectfully for a moment before feeling her cousin’s hands rest upon them.
"Hello Persephone. I’m glad to see you."
It wasn’t a total lie. She did care deeply for her cousin, it was more that she wanted to avoid someone who sometimes had been known to travel with her... She peered over her cousin’s shoulder, desperately hoping that the princess had managed to leave her entourage stationed at the garden gates, so that they might have some privacy. If she could not be alone, then the fewer witnesses to her current mood, the better.
"Are you alone, cousin?"
It wasn’t strictly polite to answer a question with a question, but Persephone would take no offence. In public, decorum was upheld, but he girls were close enough in age and friendship to deal away with most formalities when alone. She reached up, putting her own hands on Persephone’s upper arms and pasted a smile on her face.
"I’m alright."
Now this was a total lie. Hopefully Persephone couldn’t tell, although being the princess meant she’d had exposure to courtly politics and the lies to come with it since the day she was born. A moment later her fears were confirmed, and she sighed.
"There are many things I’d rather talk about," she said, turning them around to face the same way and looping her arm through her cousin’s. “But if you want to hear what’s been bothering me lately, maybe we could take a walk through the garden. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” She smoothly pivoted them toward one of the more shaded paths, tugging Persephone along with her.
Persephone attentively watched her cousin, her dark, chocolate-hued eyes gleaming with both tender affection and deep-seated understanding. The canopy of leaves overhead cast a dappled play of sunlight and shadow across her ethereal countenance, amplifying the sense of enchantment that radiated from her.
Her lips gently curled into a comforting smile, but the soft furrow of her brow and the flicker of astute concern in her eyes betrayed her cognizance of the turmoil Elena sought to hide. Her cousin's attempts at a bright façade were not lost on her; the calculated politeness and empty pleasantries were an all-too-familiar dance in the grand theatre of courtly life. Persephone, seasoned in this ballet of deceit, recognized the heartache beneath Elena's artificial smile.
Elena's question hung in the air, tender and vulnerable, stirring a chord of concern within Persephone. Was she alone? Persephone's dark eyes, like pools reflecting the depth of a moonless night, softened with empathy. No retinue of guards accompanied her today, for the tranquillity of the garden was her sanctuary and shield. The realization that Elena sought privacy, perhaps a refuge from prying eyes and unsolicited counsel, tugged at her heart. "I am, dearest Elena, unencumbered by prying eyes and ears," Persephone affirmed.
Elena's arm intertwined with hers, and Persephone gently caressed Elena's hand. Persephone's senses, attuned to the subtleties of her cousin's demeanour, detected the underlying urgency in Elena's movements. They ventured further into the heart of the garden.
Persephone didn't rush to fill the silence. Instead, she offered it as a comforting blanket, allowing Elena the freedom to guide their conversation. Every word, every sigh from Elena was, however, noticed. Persephone's dark eyes radiated warmth and love, and she hoped they showed Elena that she was there for her.
"It has been a while," she replied softly. "This garden provides a sanctuary for us, a haven untouched by the expectations of courtly life. Let us walk, and if your heart yearns to speak, I am here to listen."
Guiding Elena deeper into the sheltered path, they tread further from the prying eyes of the court. Each step Persephone took seemed to barely brush the path beneath, as though she were a gentle breeze drifting over a tranquil lake. Her movement was a dance with nature itself, a poetry of grace that added an ethereal charm to her composure.
Her feet, bare against the sun-drenched stones, moved with such lightness that even the frail petals scattered on the path remained undisturbed. Every step she took was imbued with an effortless elegance that made it appear as if she were gliding rather than walking, her lithe form floating effortlessly above the garden's verdant carpet.
With the grace of a whispering breeze, Persephone guided Elena beneath the venerable boughs of an ancient olive tree, its gnarled branches offering solace and shade from the world's scrutiny. The tree had stood as a silent witness to countless tales of joy and sorrow, its roots entrenched in the shared history of their family. There was a quiet wisdom to its presence, and an unspoken promise of refuge in its steadfastness.
Underneath this bastion of endurance, Persephone turned to face her cousin. With a gentle yet firm hand, she halted their journey, her dark eyes fastening upon Elena's countenance with an unspoken promise of solace. She gently enveloped Elena in a tender embrace. Their forms melded under the whispering leaves, the rustle of their gowns blending with the soft murmur of the wind.
"Sweet cousin," Persephone's voice emerged as a whisper, soft and soothing like the song of a nightingale in the quiet twilight. "Do take heart and burden me with your vexations. In unity, we shall stand against the tempestuous gales of life." Beneath the olive tree, in the heart of the garden, Persephone stood with Elena, their bond unyielding as they navigated the labyrinth of their shared emotions.
Makki
Persephone
Makki
Persephone
Awards
First Impressions:Slender; Her deep brown, almond-shaped eyes and her thick long and braided hair.
Address: Your Her Royal Highness
Persephone attentively watched her cousin, her dark, chocolate-hued eyes gleaming with both tender affection and deep-seated understanding. The canopy of leaves overhead cast a dappled play of sunlight and shadow across her ethereal countenance, amplifying the sense of enchantment that radiated from her.
Her lips gently curled into a comforting smile, but the soft furrow of her brow and the flicker of astute concern in her eyes betrayed her cognizance of the turmoil Elena sought to hide. Her cousin's attempts at a bright façade were not lost on her; the calculated politeness and empty pleasantries were an all-too-familiar dance in the grand theatre of courtly life. Persephone, seasoned in this ballet of deceit, recognized the heartache beneath Elena's artificial smile.
Elena's question hung in the air, tender and vulnerable, stirring a chord of concern within Persephone. Was she alone? Persephone's dark eyes, like pools reflecting the depth of a moonless night, softened with empathy. No retinue of guards accompanied her today, for the tranquillity of the garden was her sanctuary and shield. The realization that Elena sought privacy, perhaps a refuge from prying eyes and unsolicited counsel, tugged at her heart. "I am, dearest Elena, unencumbered by prying eyes and ears," Persephone affirmed.
Elena's arm intertwined with hers, and Persephone gently caressed Elena's hand. Persephone's senses, attuned to the subtleties of her cousin's demeanour, detected the underlying urgency in Elena's movements. They ventured further into the heart of the garden.
Persephone didn't rush to fill the silence. Instead, she offered it as a comforting blanket, allowing Elena the freedom to guide their conversation. Every word, every sigh from Elena was, however, noticed. Persephone's dark eyes radiated warmth and love, and she hoped they showed Elena that she was there for her.
"It has been a while," she replied softly. "This garden provides a sanctuary for us, a haven untouched by the expectations of courtly life. Let us walk, and if your heart yearns to speak, I am here to listen."
Guiding Elena deeper into the sheltered path, they tread further from the prying eyes of the court. Each step Persephone took seemed to barely brush the path beneath, as though she were a gentle breeze drifting over a tranquil lake. Her movement was a dance with nature itself, a poetry of grace that added an ethereal charm to her composure.
Her feet, bare against the sun-drenched stones, moved with such lightness that even the frail petals scattered on the path remained undisturbed. Every step she took was imbued with an effortless elegance that made it appear as if she were gliding rather than walking, her lithe form floating effortlessly above the garden's verdant carpet.
With the grace of a whispering breeze, Persephone guided Elena beneath the venerable boughs of an ancient olive tree, its gnarled branches offering solace and shade from the world's scrutiny. The tree had stood as a silent witness to countless tales of joy and sorrow, its roots entrenched in the shared history of their family. There was a quiet wisdom to its presence, and an unspoken promise of refuge in its steadfastness.
Underneath this bastion of endurance, Persephone turned to face her cousin. With a gentle yet firm hand, she halted their journey, her dark eyes fastening upon Elena's countenance with an unspoken promise of solace. She gently enveloped Elena in a tender embrace. Their forms melded under the whispering leaves, the rustle of their gowns blending with the soft murmur of the wind.
"Sweet cousin," Persephone's voice emerged as a whisper, soft and soothing like the song of a nightingale in the quiet twilight. "Do take heart and burden me with your vexations. In unity, we shall stand against the tempestuous gales of life." Beneath the olive tree, in the heart of the garden, Persephone stood with Elena, their bond unyielding as they navigated the labyrinth of their shared emotions.
Persephone attentively watched her cousin, her dark, chocolate-hued eyes gleaming with both tender affection and deep-seated understanding. The canopy of leaves overhead cast a dappled play of sunlight and shadow across her ethereal countenance, amplifying the sense of enchantment that radiated from her.
Her lips gently curled into a comforting smile, but the soft furrow of her brow and the flicker of astute concern in her eyes betrayed her cognizance of the turmoil Elena sought to hide. Her cousin's attempts at a bright façade were not lost on her; the calculated politeness and empty pleasantries were an all-too-familiar dance in the grand theatre of courtly life. Persephone, seasoned in this ballet of deceit, recognized the heartache beneath Elena's artificial smile.
Elena's question hung in the air, tender and vulnerable, stirring a chord of concern within Persephone. Was she alone? Persephone's dark eyes, like pools reflecting the depth of a moonless night, softened with empathy. No retinue of guards accompanied her today, for the tranquillity of the garden was her sanctuary and shield. The realization that Elena sought privacy, perhaps a refuge from prying eyes and unsolicited counsel, tugged at her heart. "I am, dearest Elena, unencumbered by prying eyes and ears," Persephone affirmed.
Elena's arm intertwined with hers, and Persephone gently caressed Elena's hand. Persephone's senses, attuned to the subtleties of her cousin's demeanour, detected the underlying urgency in Elena's movements. They ventured further into the heart of the garden.
Persephone didn't rush to fill the silence. Instead, she offered it as a comforting blanket, allowing Elena the freedom to guide their conversation. Every word, every sigh from Elena was, however, noticed. Persephone's dark eyes radiated warmth and love, and she hoped they showed Elena that she was there for her.
"It has been a while," she replied softly. "This garden provides a sanctuary for us, a haven untouched by the expectations of courtly life. Let us walk, and if your heart yearns to speak, I am here to listen."
Guiding Elena deeper into the sheltered path, they tread further from the prying eyes of the court. Each step Persephone took seemed to barely brush the path beneath, as though she were a gentle breeze drifting over a tranquil lake. Her movement was a dance with nature itself, a poetry of grace that added an ethereal charm to her composure.
Her feet, bare against the sun-drenched stones, moved with such lightness that even the frail petals scattered on the path remained undisturbed. Every step she took was imbued with an effortless elegance that made it appear as if she were gliding rather than walking, her lithe form floating effortlessly above the garden's verdant carpet.
With the grace of a whispering breeze, Persephone guided Elena beneath the venerable boughs of an ancient olive tree, its gnarled branches offering solace and shade from the world's scrutiny. The tree had stood as a silent witness to countless tales of joy and sorrow, its roots entrenched in the shared history of their family. There was a quiet wisdom to its presence, and an unspoken promise of refuge in its steadfastness.
Underneath this bastion of endurance, Persephone turned to face her cousin. With a gentle yet firm hand, she halted their journey, her dark eyes fastening upon Elena's countenance with an unspoken promise of solace. She gently enveloped Elena in a tender embrace. Their forms melded under the whispering leaves, the rustle of their gowns blending with the soft murmur of the wind.
"Sweet cousin," Persephone's voice emerged as a whisper, soft and soothing like the song of a nightingale in the quiet twilight. "Do take heart and burden me with your vexations. In unity, we shall stand against the tempestuous gales of life." Beneath the olive tree, in the heart of the garden, Persephone stood with Elena, their bond unyielding as they navigated the labyrinth of their shared emotions.
The fragrant riot of colour did nothing to bring Elena peace. Roses climbed trellises, their petals a riot of crimson and pink against sun-dappled stone paths. Delicate lilies nodded gracefully in the breeze, offering a serene contrast to the verdant surroundings. Bees hummed among the blossoms, drawn by the sweet nectar of irises and clusters of daisies. It all felt removed from her, remote somehow. The only thing she could feel was the tightness in her throat and the quiver in her hands. She prayed Persephone did not notice.
She huffed softly, relieved her cousin was alone. There was no way she could tolerate anyone else's company at the moment. Something told her Persephone was the best person who could have stumbled upon her. Yes, Persephone was a princess, but she was also a confidante. In fact, Persephone's hand patting hers reinforced that notion. Elena tilted her head to let it rest on her cousin's shoulder for a moment before they began walking deeper into the lush greenery.
They walked in silence until they reached the shade of a large olive tree, said to have stood since time immemorial by her grandmother Ivra. Here, they stood facing each other again, the tree a silent witness.
"I hardly know where to begin," Elena said as Persephone embraced her, swallowing the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat.
Her body leaned in, soaking up the physical contact and comfort it provided. Maybe this was what she'd needed after all. After a long moment, she pulled away, their hands still connected.
"I was at the spice market on the day of the attack. I was there when it happened," she said. The words hung in the air for a moment. "Were it not for one of the city guards, I would likely be dead right now."
Elena's gaze moved over Persephone's shoulder, unwillingly pulled back to the memory of that day. Smoke filled her nostrils again, and her heart began to beat faster. Why did that day continue to haunt her thoughts this way? Shouldn't it become less potent over time, rather than remain as vivid as it currently was?
"There was fire everywhere, people running and shouting," she continued softly. "It was so frightening. I thought I was going to die, Perse."
Now her eyes dropped to her right hand. The bruises were gone, but it remained sensitive and sore at times, even though it had been weeks since it had been injured. Hiding her injuries from her family had been difficult. Not only did she have visible damage, but the mental distress had woken her in the middle of the night more than once. Luckily, she'd managed to get by with Myrine's help, or an injured hand would have been the least of her troubles.
"Please, don't tell anyone I was there. Promise me, cousin. I know it was dangerous and I've learned my lesson. That day has haunted my thoughts ever since," she swallowed. "I tell you these things because I have a favor to ask of you. I need to know what the investigation has found. "My mind won't be at ease until the culprits have been caught, and my source of news," she tried to stem the tears from welling up in her eyes, "isn't speaking to me anymore. And I have no idea why."
Persephone was the only person Elena could ask, her only option for information. There was no way her father would share such information. In addition, asking about the investigation would be questioned now that the initial uproar had died down. There was still plenty of unrest among the citizens of the city, enough that even Elena, sheltered as her life was, was aware of it. But now that Leonidas wasn't speaking to her, there was no one else she could ask. She tugged Persephone toward a bench in the shade, and the pair sat together. One girl appeared as light and ethereal as a forest nymph, the other, a mortal weighed by the problems of humanity.
Peach
Elena
Peach
Elena
Awards
First Impressions:Delicate; Kind smile, golden hair, soft hands, full lower lip
Address: Your Her Ladyship
The fragrant riot of colour did nothing to bring Elena peace. Roses climbed trellises, their petals a riot of crimson and pink against sun-dappled stone paths. Delicate lilies nodded gracefully in the breeze, offering a serene contrast to the verdant surroundings. Bees hummed among the blossoms, drawn by the sweet nectar of irises and clusters of daisies. It all felt removed from her, remote somehow. The only thing she could feel was the tightness in her throat and the quiver in her hands. She prayed Persephone did not notice.
She huffed softly, relieved her cousin was alone. There was no way she could tolerate anyone else's company at the moment. Something told her Persephone was the best person who could have stumbled upon her. Yes, Persephone was a princess, but she was also a confidante. In fact, Persephone's hand patting hers reinforced that notion. Elena tilted her head to let it rest on her cousin's shoulder for a moment before they began walking deeper into the lush greenery.
They walked in silence until they reached the shade of a large olive tree, said to have stood since time immemorial by her grandmother Ivra. Here, they stood facing each other again, the tree a silent witness.
"I hardly know where to begin," Elena said as Persephone embraced her, swallowing the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat.
Her body leaned in, soaking up the physical contact and comfort it provided. Maybe this was what she'd needed after all. After a long moment, she pulled away, their hands still connected.
"I was at the spice market on the day of the attack. I was there when it happened," she said. The words hung in the air for a moment. "Were it not for one of the city guards, I would likely be dead right now."
Elena's gaze moved over Persephone's shoulder, unwillingly pulled back to the memory of that day. Smoke filled her nostrils again, and her heart began to beat faster. Why did that day continue to haunt her thoughts this way? Shouldn't it become less potent over time, rather than remain as vivid as it currently was?
"There was fire everywhere, people running and shouting," she continued softly. "It was so frightening. I thought I was going to die, Perse."
Now her eyes dropped to her right hand. The bruises were gone, but it remained sensitive and sore at times, even though it had been weeks since it had been injured. Hiding her injuries from her family had been difficult. Not only did she have visible damage, but the mental distress had woken her in the middle of the night more than once. Luckily, she'd managed to get by with Myrine's help, or an injured hand would have been the least of her troubles.
"Please, don't tell anyone I was there. Promise me, cousin. I know it was dangerous and I've learned my lesson. That day has haunted my thoughts ever since," she swallowed. "I tell you these things because I have a favor to ask of you. I need to know what the investigation has found. "My mind won't be at ease until the culprits have been caught, and my source of news," she tried to stem the tears from welling up in her eyes, "isn't speaking to me anymore. And I have no idea why."
Persephone was the only person Elena could ask, her only option for information. There was no way her father would share such information. In addition, asking about the investigation would be questioned now that the initial uproar had died down. There was still plenty of unrest among the citizens of the city, enough that even Elena, sheltered as her life was, was aware of it. But now that Leonidas wasn't speaking to her, there was no one else she could ask. She tugged Persephone toward a bench in the shade, and the pair sat together. One girl appeared as light and ethereal as a forest nymph, the other, a mortal weighed by the problems of humanity.
The fragrant riot of colour did nothing to bring Elena peace. Roses climbed trellises, their petals a riot of crimson and pink against sun-dappled stone paths. Delicate lilies nodded gracefully in the breeze, offering a serene contrast to the verdant surroundings. Bees hummed among the blossoms, drawn by the sweet nectar of irises and clusters of daisies. It all felt removed from her, remote somehow. The only thing she could feel was the tightness in her throat and the quiver in her hands. She prayed Persephone did not notice.
She huffed softly, relieved her cousin was alone. There was no way she could tolerate anyone else's company at the moment. Something told her Persephone was the best person who could have stumbled upon her. Yes, Persephone was a princess, but she was also a confidante. In fact, Persephone's hand patting hers reinforced that notion. Elena tilted her head to let it rest on her cousin's shoulder for a moment before they began walking deeper into the lush greenery.
They walked in silence until they reached the shade of a large olive tree, said to have stood since time immemorial by her grandmother Ivra. Here, they stood facing each other again, the tree a silent witness.
"I hardly know where to begin," Elena said as Persephone embraced her, swallowing the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat.
Her body leaned in, soaking up the physical contact and comfort it provided. Maybe this was what she'd needed after all. After a long moment, she pulled away, their hands still connected.
"I was at the spice market on the day of the attack. I was there when it happened," she said. The words hung in the air for a moment. "Were it not for one of the city guards, I would likely be dead right now."
Elena's gaze moved over Persephone's shoulder, unwillingly pulled back to the memory of that day. Smoke filled her nostrils again, and her heart began to beat faster. Why did that day continue to haunt her thoughts this way? Shouldn't it become less potent over time, rather than remain as vivid as it currently was?
"There was fire everywhere, people running and shouting," she continued softly. "It was so frightening. I thought I was going to die, Perse."
Now her eyes dropped to her right hand. The bruises were gone, but it remained sensitive and sore at times, even though it had been weeks since it had been injured. Hiding her injuries from her family had been difficult. Not only did she have visible damage, but the mental distress had woken her in the middle of the night more than once. Luckily, she'd managed to get by with Myrine's help, or an injured hand would have been the least of her troubles.
"Please, don't tell anyone I was there. Promise me, cousin. I know it was dangerous and I've learned my lesson. That day has haunted my thoughts ever since," she swallowed. "I tell you these things because I have a favor to ask of you. I need to know what the investigation has found. "My mind won't be at ease until the culprits have been caught, and my source of news," she tried to stem the tears from welling up in her eyes, "isn't speaking to me anymore. And I have no idea why."
Persephone was the only person Elena could ask, her only option for information. There was no way her father would share such information. In addition, asking about the investigation would be questioned now that the initial uproar had died down. There was still plenty of unrest among the citizens of the city, enough that even Elena, sheltered as her life was, was aware of it. But now that Leonidas wasn't speaking to her, there was no one else she could ask. She tugged Persephone toward a bench in the shade, and the pair sat together. One girl appeared as light and ethereal as a forest nymph, the other, a mortal weighed by the problems of humanity.
Persephone held Elena's trembling hands, her heart tightening with concern as she observed the quiver in her cousin's fingers and the strained tightness in her throat. The vibrant colors of the garden, with roses climbing the trellises and delicate lilies nodding gracefully in the breeze, seemed almost muted compared to the stormy emotions flickering across Elena's face.
As Elena's head rested on her shoulder, Persephone felt the profound sadness for the turmoil her cousin was experiencing. They walked under the verdant canopy, dappled sunlight casting shifting patterns upon the ground, leading them to the ancient olive tree. It stood as a sentinel, its gnarled branches whispering secrets of ages past, offering them solace and shelter.
When Elena began to speak, Persephone listened intently, her expression a delicate tapestry of concern. She remained silent, her regal demeanor unwavering, but as Elena's tale unfolded, a shift occurred within her. The realization that her beloved cousin had been in grave danger struck Persephone like a bolt of lightning. Her eyes, dark and beautiful like polished onyx, widened in abject horror, the depth of her concern transforming them into mirrors reflecting the anguish and fear etched into Elena's words. The horror of the revelation etched itself into her elegant features, a stark contrast to the usual serenity that graced her countenance.
Without hesitation, Persephone enveloped Elena in a tender embrace, holding her cousin close as though her arms alone could shield her from the haunting memories. She felt the slight shudder in Elena's frame, the lingering echoes of horror.
“Sweet cousin,” Persephone whispered, her voice as soothing as a lullaby when Elena begged her to not tell anyone, “What you have shared in confidence will remain between us.”
Yet, as Elena implored her for details of the investigation, Persephone's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of caution crossing her regal features. The weight of her duties as in her father’s place bore heavily upon her, and she knew more than she thought it wise to divulge. Still, she understood the restlessness in Elena's heart, the desperate need for closure.
“Elena,” Persephone began, her tone gentle yet laced with regal authority, “I see your heart is restless, but some knowledge may bring only more vexation.”
As Elena mentioned her source of information falling silent, Persephone's demeanor shifted. A sternness piercing through her compassionate exterior. Her brows furrowed slightly as she considered the implications.
“Who, pray tell, is this source of yours?” Persephone inquired, her voice firm but not unkind. ““It concerns me greatly that you are receiving such intelligence on matters of state. This is not a burden you should bear.”
Makki
Persephone
Makki
Persephone
Awards
First Impressions:Slender; Her deep brown, almond-shaped eyes and her thick long and braided hair.
Address: Your Her Royal Highness
Persephone held Elena's trembling hands, her heart tightening with concern as she observed the quiver in her cousin's fingers and the strained tightness in her throat. The vibrant colors of the garden, with roses climbing the trellises and delicate lilies nodding gracefully in the breeze, seemed almost muted compared to the stormy emotions flickering across Elena's face.
As Elena's head rested on her shoulder, Persephone felt the profound sadness for the turmoil her cousin was experiencing. They walked under the verdant canopy, dappled sunlight casting shifting patterns upon the ground, leading them to the ancient olive tree. It stood as a sentinel, its gnarled branches whispering secrets of ages past, offering them solace and shelter.
When Elena began to speak, Persephone listened intently, her expression a delicate tapestry of concern. She remained silent, her regal demeanor unwavering, but as Elena's tale unfolded, a shift occurred within her. The realization that her beloved cousin had been in grave danger struck Persephone like a bolt of lightning. Her eyes, dark and beautiful like polished onyx, widened in abject horror, the depth of her concern transforming them into mirrors reflecting the anguish and fear etched into Elena's words. The horror of the revelation etched itself into her elegant features, a stark contrast to the usual serenity that graced her countenance.
Without hesitation, Persephone enveloped Elena in a tender embrace, holding her cousin close as though her arms alone could shield her from the haunting memories. She felt the slight shudder in Elena's frame, the lingering echoes of horror.
“Sweet cousin,” Persephone whispered, her voice as soothing as a lullaby when Elena begged her to not tell anyone, “What you have shared in confidence will remain between us.”
Yet, as Elena implored her for details of the investigation, Persephone's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of caution crossing her regal features. The weight of her duties as in her father’s place bore heavily upon her, and she knew more than she thought it wise to divulge. Still, she understood the restlessness in Elena's heart, the desperate need for closure.
“Elena,” Persephone began, her tone gentle yet laced with regal authority, “I see your heart is restless, but some knowledge may bring only more vexation.”
As Elena mentioned her source of information falling silent, Persephone's demeanor shifted. A sternness piercing through her compassionate exterior. Her brows furrowed slightly as she considered the implications.
“Who, pray tell, is this source of yours?” Persephone inquired, her voice firm but not unkind. ““It concerns me greatly that you are receiving such intelligence on matters of state. This is not a burden you should bear.”
Persephone held Elena's trembling hands, her heart tightening with concern as she observed the quiver in her cousin's fingers and the strained tightness in her throat. The vibrant colors of the garden, with roses climbing the trellises and delicate lilies nodding gracefully in the breeze, seemed almost muted compared to the stormy emotions flickering across Elena's face.
As Elena's head rested on her shoulder, Persephone felt the profound sadness for the turmoil her cousin was experiencing. They walked under the verdant canopy, dappled sunlight casting shifting patterns upon the ground, leading them to the ancient olive tree. It stood as a sentinel, its gnarled branches whispering secrets of ages past, offering them solace and shelter.
When Elena began to speak, Persephone listened intently, her expression a delicate tapestry of concern. She remained silent, her regal demeanor unwavering, but as Elena's tale unfolded, a shift occurred within her. The realization that her beloved cousin had been in grave danger struck Persephone like a bolt of lightning. Her eyes, dark and beautiful like polished onyx, widened in abject horror, the depth of her concern transforming them into mirrors reflecting the anguish and fear etched into Elena's words. The horror of the revelation etched itself into her elegant features, a stark contrast to the usual serenity that graced her countenance.
Without hesitation, Persephone enveloped Elena in a tender embrace, holding her cousin close as though her arms alone could shield her from the haunting memories. She felt the slight shudder in Elena's frame, the lingering echoes of horror.
“Sweet cousin,” Persephone whispered, her voice as soothing as a lullaby when Elena begged her to not tell anyone, “What you have shared in confidence will remain between us.”
Yet, as Elena implored her for details of the investigation, Persephone's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of caution crossing her regal features. The weight of her duties as in her father’s place bore heavily upon her, and she knew more than she thought it wise to divulge. Still, she understood the restlessness in Elena's heart, the desperate need for closure.
“Elena,” Persephone began, her tone gentle yet laced with regal authority, “I see your heart is restless, but some knowledge may bring only more vexation.”
As Elena mentioned her source of information falling silent, Persephone's demeanor shifted. A sternness piercing through her compassionate exterior. Her brows furrowed slightly as she considered the implications.
“Who, pray tell, is this source of yours?” Persephone inquired, her voice firm but not unkind. ““It concerns me greatly that you are receiving such intelligence on matters of state. This is not a burden you should bear.”
