The sunlight illuminates Moanna's chocolate brown hair, and she squints as she gazes up into it. The grass hugs her bare ankles with cool, soft blades, and her blue skirt gently sways in the breeze. It is dusk; the hour of bliss; the time of day when everyone forgets who they are and live only in the moment they are in. Moanna smiles, and sits under the shade of a tree.
She sees the Faun from afar; he is on the other side of the pond, looking at ancient rune scrolls, his brow furrowed in concentration. A wave of affection goes over the Princess, and she grins. My Faun is so serious, she thinks happily.
She looks at him for long moments, studying him like a philosopher. His black, swirling horns gleam in the sunlight; his eyes are almost closed in examination of the scrolls; his wild hair tosses and whirls about in the wind. He's not self-conscious, she notices. He's never cared about the way he looks, or the way others look. He only sees a person, and a person's soul. She greatly admires this, and after a long moment, she shifts her gaze back to the sky, her head full of thought.
The rush of warmth that she felt when she looked at the Faun does not go away. It stays, and she wonders why it stays, and wonders how long it will stay. Subconsciously, the Princess examines this sensation, and can come to no conclusion besides the fact that she might feel something a little more than friend-love for the Faun.
No, she thinks to herself, shaking her head. That's impossible. She pushes the warm affection away, and walks back into the castle, feeling lightheaded.