Princess Fashion Salon 1
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description
The first snow drapes the kingdom in crystalline silence, its arrival igniting the princess’s resolve to host a masquerade beneath the palace’s vaulted ceilings. Government scrolls still litter her desk, ink-stained fingers betraying hours spent negotiating trade routes and treaties—yet tonight demands a different kind of diplomacy. Her dressing chamber glimmers like a trove of winter secrets: gowns of frosted silver tulle, capes lined with arctic fox, diadems crusted with diamonds cut to mimic ice. Time slips like sand through an hourglass. You guide her to a velvet stool, where steaming rosewater unravels the tension in her shoulders. Blotting her face with silk, you blend crushed pearl pigment into her eyelids, paint her lips the faint blue of twilight on snow. The final touch arrives—a gown woven from moonlight itself, its train pooling like a frozen river. She fastens a necklace of opals that glow with stormlight, and for a moment, the weight of crowns dissolves. Beyond the windows, servants string the halls with glass icicles and white lilies, their petals trembling as the first guests arrive, their breath hanging in the air like ghosts.
