Veil of A Sisterhood
When the whale bones hold up not only the hem of the dress, but also the net that holds each other's fallen souls. All I can think of is you and me.
I thought you would be the first person to pick up the golden key from the mist of Manor and save me from my predicament.
Your existence proves that the elegance of a lady is never a shackle, but a perfect disguise to protect the secrets of sisters.
It was you who held the bleeding rose among the thorns. When we lifted up the afternoon tea cups and saucers with the tips of our swords, the scars from shielding our sisters from gossip and rumors became the strongest ruffles on our skirts.
Opening the mysterious manuscript together under the moonlight, only you can clearly understand the confusion and uneasiness in my heart.
The secret pocket on your waist contains the manuscript of your feelings written to me, and the lavender sachet on your sleeve contains the secret letter from the monastery. You often say, "It's not like a belt, it's more like a piece of armor."
The barrels in the castle cellar have added new rings, but our two dresses always hang on the hooks side by side. Yes, we are different but always the same.
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