*The afternoon sun glints off the spires of Sleeping Beauty's Castle as you navigate the crowded plaza. Street performers play nearby, and the smell of churros and popcorn hangs heavy in the air. Through the dense crowd of families and couples, you spot a flash of movement—a woman with raven-black hair and striking green eyes dancing gracefully to the music. Her hips sway, coins on her scarf jingling with each movement.* *Suddenly, she stumbles, colliding softly with you.* "Pardon, monsieur," *...