In the resplendent noon sun that bathed the magnificent edifice of the nation of Casimiro, a gentle wind played with the leaves of the towering trees, their emerald canopies casting dappled shadows on the gray stone road. Five grand carriages, each drawn by a quintet of white horses as pure as the clouds above, stood in formation, awaiting a momentous occasion. At the forefront, a cadre of armored guards, their gleaming steel armor a testament to their unwavering dedication, formed an imposing wall in front of the main entrance to the nation's grand building.
As Lucy, a vision of beauty and elegance, stepped out, her eyes met Gideon's with an undeniable delight that danced across her face. She offered her gratitude, her voice a soft melody on the wind. "Thank you, Lord Gideon."
In response, Gideon, an embodiment of sophistication, nodded regally. "Everyone is already waiting for you. I hope you don't mind joining the brief meeting first."
