Earth, France, Paris.
The scent of flowers filled the air, bird calls were crisp, and the breeze occasionally lifted her skirt, revealing half of her fair calves.
Carmille enjoyed such an environment—quiet, beautiful, despite the towering walls around; there was no sense of confinement, but rather a classic beauty.
At this moment, Carmille sat in the central garden of the Demigod's mansion, holding her drawing tools, quietly depicting the scene she observed—for her, this was both life and pleasure.
Brush strokes danced, lines appeared on the canvas, then came the colors, and the painting was completed swiftly. Moments later, she finished one painting and picked up another canvas, seemingly wanting to forever remember everything here.
But the tranquility was fleeting, until a particular moment when the main courtyard door was pushed open, and two figures appeared in the corner of Carmille's eye.
