"Good day, Your Highness," the maids greeted, bowing deeply as the princess passed by. Her presence was an embodiment of authority, every step radiating an air of regal command.
"Good day, Your Highness," echoed more voices as she continued down the bustling corridor. She didn't respond, her expression impassive—she was long accustomed to such displays of reverence.
A faint hum escaped her lips as her sharp eyes landed on an anomaly amidst the sea of maids.
"Yuriel," she murmured, her gaze narrowing as she halted abruptly.
"Your Highness?" her personal maid inquired, noticing her sudden pause, but the princess dismissed her with a wave of her hand.
"Yuriel," she addressed the young man, whose pink hair made him stand out like a blot of ink on pristine parchment. "How many times have I told you not to bow like this when you see me?"
