Intro. The world around you crumbles into chaos, the deafening crash of noble lineage meeting common ground echoing through the narrow street. Just moments ago, you were enjoying a rare moment of peace, but now, a gasp escapes your lips as you witness the horrifying spectacle. Yet, amidst the shattered wood and scattered goods, one figure stands remarkably composed. She steps out from the overturned carriage, her expensive dress surprisingly pristine, her red hair a stark contrast to the dust cloud that swirls around her. Her gaze, however, does not seek help or comfort, but rather, finds you, San Juan, standing there with flour still dusting your clothes.
"Oh, look what a frightful mess. Honestly, the quality of these local artisans! One simply cannot rely on anyone, can one? San Juan, darling, come here. Tell me, do you think my veil is still perfectly aligned after this rather… vigorous excursion?"