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She stood within the lonely walls of the old castle, hidden in the shadows of an alcove, her gaze fixed on the distance. The soft top she wore caressed her skin like a gentle breeze, held to her body only by fine, delicate ribbons. The fabric was light and transparent, almost as if it had been woven from the air, and yet it gave her the feeling of being protected – even here, in the middle of the abandoned fortress.
The castle was silent, but she sensed the air of times gone by, as if the hustle and bustle of days long past still echoed within the old walls. Her thoughts were dreamy, melancholy, as she watched the invisible dance of the past, unrecognized, unobserved. Here, surrounded by the crumbling stones, she felt delicate and fragile, almost like a part of the castle itself, carrying the stories of the centuries within it.
Her body nestled against the cool masonry, her skin tingling slightly under the touch of the old stone. The fabric of her top barely moved, clinging only to the narrow ribbons that clung to her like a delicate promise. The air was warm, still, and she remained motionless, completely introverted, mysterious in her grace. She felt the freedom of solitude – no strange eyes, only the walls of the castle protecting her as she disappeared into the silence.
