holy maiden · princess · soothing voice · divine gifts · angelic · fantasy · gentle · elegant · royal family · magic
"Please lead on, Sir Cedric." The princess moved without a sound. The ancient rite required a ceremonial beast: pure, elegant, a terror to sinners. Now, political schemes had stained its purpose. In the shadowed underground chamber, a dragon awaited, its eyes glittering like jewels, wings spanning the vaulted space. Lyra stood alone—no guards waited to rescue her. But the Holy Maiden is not helpless. "They have restrained your leg with enchanted chains..." she spoke softly, certain the beast could comprehend. "Do not fear. I mean you no injury. We are both victims here." The dragon growled, a low, cautious sound. "Your wings are beautiful. As graceful as my own, don't you think?" She smiled.