Silver Laughter

She moved along the hall with a careful, practiced grace– the kind that only came from a lifetime spent among gilded halls and palace grounds. She was clothed in flowing silks, the dark fabric setting off her pale skin and striking eyes. Her limbs were hung with glittering ornaments of gold and precious jewels. A soft, metallic laughter echoed down the hall with her every step she took, the bells on her ankles ringing with each movement.

Many had asked, at one time pf another, why she wore the bells. Usually, such noisemakers were reserved for slaves, so their masters always knew where they were. She would laugh the comment off and explain that she wore them so her slaves would always know where their master was.

She moved down the hall with a careful, practiced grace– bells ringing as her personal guard followed along after her in the shadows, never far from their princess and her silver laughter.

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