Rosalie descended the stairs with an eagerness akin to that of a person reuniting with a dear, long-lost companion. There was a mixture of excitement and fascination that coursed through her, effortlessly dispelling any lingering traces of negativity or unease.
Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, a faint but persistent voice in her mind whispered, encouraging her to hasten her steps, urging her to mend the rift with a cherished friend from the past who had become estranged.
Princess Angelica remained mesmerizing as always. Her lengthy blonde locks radiated akin to the sun's resplendent rays, an unfaltering brilliance even amidst the somber embrace of autumnal days. Her eyes, tinted azure, glimmered with an ever-present optimism. However, a paradox lay within her appearance – her pallor, almost fragile, seemed to lack the vitality attributed to the healthful atmosphere of Rische, a stark contrast emphasized by her towering yet sickishly slender physique.
