~Ophilia ~✧*.
"Duchess Seraphine, her lady looks exactly like you," one of her personal maids said warmly, watching the little girl play.
"She's very gentle and clever."
[I look at my mom, sitting elegantly in her chair.]
She chuckled softly. Her dark brown hair, long and curling, drifted gently in the breeze. Crystal blue eyes shimmering. Skin so smooth and fair it seemed to glow.
She took one quiet sip of her tea before stepping toward Ophlia, who was running freely through the garden.
"My, my... of course she does. I'm her mother, after all," she said, smiling warmly.
She laughed softly, then reached out her hands. Slowly, she lifted Ophlia onto her lap and walked toward her flower garden.
The garden was beautiful that day. The air smelled like something warm and alive. Especially because Ophlia was there, with her mother, the person she loved most in the world.
