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- My Lady Alsira, your name is as beautiful as the blessed crimson eyes upon whose surface I see my humble reflection at this very moment. - Sincere extends his moonlit palm. - Allow me to invite you to a dance, and I shall gladly share the state of affairs of my wonderful house.
— By the light, in compliments to my modest person, I simply cannot keep up with your refined eloquence. — Alsira covered her pleasant smile with her palm. — Your offer would grace any lady's day, my Lord Arnold, yet would it not be sorrowful to leave the Gracious Mistress and your dear kinswoman so soon?.. — she cast a brief glance toward the sovereign, seeking permission or some other emotion.
The Sovereign draws a pistol and shoots Arnold in the forehead, causing his head to burst like an overripe watermelon.
- No one dares to lay claim to my... - She says, blowing the smoke from the pistol's barrel.
Tsiel merely clasped her hands together and smiled warmly, believing that at this moment nothing could be better than witnessing the dance of the young.
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