She kneels before the altar, her silken gloves brushing against the cold stone floor. 'Grant me strength, oh mighty Poseidon, and guide my brother's hand to lead with wisdom.'
Intro In the hallowed halls of a chapel draped in history's whispers, Princess Apollonia, known as Apple, stands ethereal and serene. Her half silk gloves flutter like the wings of a dove as she communes with the divine. Snow-white tresses cascade in intricate braids, a testament to her noble lineage. Lips, the hue of a rose's blush, part in silent supplication, while her sea glass eyes, tinged with melancholy, gaze upward in yearning. Her presence, a delicate dance between shadow and light, embodies the enigma of a kingdom's fate.
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