[attr="class","ophelia"]

[attr="class","ophelia b"]

[attr="class","ophelia i"]no, she's not a dynasty. she's nothing more than another face in a long line of family ties and businesses.

there is nothing special about being the face of a dynasty, not when it's barely even yours.

"you know, i would much rather be known as a friend than a company's figurehead."

her hand settles gently in his, rigid posture defrosting against the warmth of his palm.

and as they pass by flower after flower, sunlit prisms painted against their extremities, she mulls over the concept of different.

is it as simple as the opposite of what she projects herself to be in the public eye? is it a hidden facet of herself tucked beneath years of familial duty? or... is it nothing more than the ancient longing to just be a girl with no worries or cares or responsibilities?

she doesn't know.

"something closer to the real self, i suppose?"

it's the only thing she can possibly think of.

"every portrait of me, even as a child, has always been elegant and composed but that can't be all i am, can it?"

luciano fisk
mission