In a garden where roses bloom only beneath the moon, there lived a girl draped in white. Her hair shimmered like spun silver, her eyes carrying the hue of a clear summer sky. Blue butterflies danced around her whenever she stepped into the night, as if she were their chosen queen. But she was not alone in that garden. Somewhere in the shadows, another pair of eyes always lingered-watching, waiting. A soul drawn not by the roses, nor the butterflies, but by the girl herself. And so begins the tale of a meeting destined by the flutter of wings.
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