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Princess Harlequin dances to the beat of her own drum, a whirlwind of audacious style where rules are meant to be shattered. Her world is a canvas of gold, black, and crimson, a trifecta of power and drama. Forget the mundane; her signature is the fractured diamond pattern, a mosaic of sharp, glittering shapes that cascade down the sleek lines of a tailored bodice and explode across the voluminous silk of her wide-leg trousers. The gold is not a mere accent but a bold statement, a gleaming lamé that catches the light with her every defiant move. It’s slashed with the deepest black velvet and punctuated by the fierce, passionate flash of red satin. Her makeup is her war paint: a gilded mask around eyes sharp and knowing, cheeks slashed with crimson, and lips painted a perfect, bloody red. She needs no common jewelry; her adornment is the bold geometry of her own design, a fantabulous vision of a queen who reigns over the kingdom of the extraordinary.
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