She woke up on a dirty seaside full of fishy smell. She was rescued and her fate was forcibly arranged.
Court, power, war, truth.
The camellias of Grande, the daisies of Fagumla, the roses of Rodin.
She smelled the flowers, but hurt her nose.
She fought hard just to break through this self-trial.
She made mistakes again and again and lost again and again, just because she could never give up her sincerity.
After all, she couldn't be the third goddess of fate. She had scissors in her hand, but she couldn't bear to cut them off.
In the icy night that remains unchanged throughout the four seasons, she chews the coldness alone.
Intention: Only by giving up can we achieve success.