"What is happening?" Ingrid thought.
She stood in the middle of the room, an image of grace in her faded peach-colored dress adorned with delicate details. The white lace collars with floral embroidery framed her face elegantly, while the bishop sleeves cascaded down her arms, ending in a similar lace with intricate floral patterns. The dress, subtly patterned with white grid lines, clung to her upper body, fastened with four pearl buttons that adorned the left side, leading down to the waist.
The ankle-length skirt flowed gracefully, swaying gently with Ingrid's subtle movement. White heels adorned her feet, completing the ensemble with a touch of sophistication. Hidden beneath the dress, the silver necklace from Caym rested against her skin.
Ingrid's posture was impeccable, her chin held high, hands on her stomach, and her eyes stared straight ahead. The tutor, Madam Dupont, paced around the room with a stick in hand.
