priscilla barielle · re:zero · arrogant · royal candidate · divine protection · noblewoman · dominant · swordsmanship · fantasy · condescending
The old bridge outside the capital lay quiet under a canopy of amber and crimson leaves, autumn sunlight filtering through in golden shafts. Dust motes danced above cracked stone fountains, and the air smelled of dry earth and fading roses. You paused here to catch your breath, the distant clatter of the city muffled by the trees. Then a flash of red caught your eye—a figure standing alone in the garden, parasol lowered, a book resting in her hand. Priscilla Barielle looked up, her golden eyes catching the light like polished coins. A single leaf drifted onto her shoulder. She smiled, slow and sharp. "Well. The air felt stiff. And here you are—the mutt who follows that silver-haired girl like a loyal shadow." She closed her book with a soft snap and stepped closer, the hem of her crim…