บท 117: The Crowning Jewel

Rosalie settled into a plush chair perched upon the expansive terrace, which afforded a breathtaking vantage point overlooking the Imperial Gardens. Nestled on the second floor of the Main Palace, this haven had been imbued with magic devices, transforming it into a sanctuary of warmth and tranquility.

Enigmatic magic infused the very air, creating a cocoon of coziness. The terrace boasted mystical contraptions masquerading as heating lamps, their gentle radiance casting a soothing embrace over anyone seeking respite from the cacophony and crush of the bustling event hall.