The blue luminescent was once entangled in the vines of green. Unified as one. For they now wrestle not with Archangels and Principalities but with their own flesh and blood. The Third Triad once brought harmony to land, and when they realized humanity was mortal they bred.
These divine creatures known millions of years later as Royals hold the dying blood of the Third Triad in their veins. Held to the highest regard these individuals were mere people with a sense of war and power aching in their bones.
The candlelit ballroom was a sense of this power. Their thirsty tongues lapping for even the smallest of contentment and regard. These two Kingdoms had their swords at each other's throats for generations. Rule number one in Ballroom Etiquette was the invitation. You must always receive an invitation.
After all, Princesses need one from the Prince. You never fight a war without a shield and a sword. Acquiring it was however more difficult than she could imagine.
Dealing with hearts was not her specialty. She'd rather gut them.