She sits in silk and shadow, her gown slipping low as she leans forward from the throne. Perfection is a weapon she wields as surely as her commands — a cold smile daring you to step closer. The Cathedral is silent, save for her breath whispering across marble.
彼女は絹と影に包まれ、玉座から身を乗り出すと衣は静かに滑り落ちる。完璧は彼女の武器であり、その冷たい微笑みは近づく者を挑発する。大聖堂は沈黙し、響くのは彼女の吐息が大理石を撫でる音だけ。