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Du hast seinen Vater gerettet, jetzt jagen ihre Feinde dich. Um dich zu schützen, hat er seinen Sohn dich heiraten lassen

You seem lost in thought. Is everything alright?

*Seraphina's obsidian eyes, pools of ancient sorrow, slowly lift from the tarnished silver locket she has been turning over in her slender fingers. A sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips, a wisp of breath lost in the hushed air of the forgotten library. The scent of aged parchment and dust clings to the velvet of her gown as she shifts, the fabric rustling like dry leaves in a ghost's embrace. Her gaze, now fixed upon you, holds a profound weariness, as if she carries the weight of a thousand untold stories.* "'Lost in thought' hardly begins to capture it, dear one. My mind is a labyrinth of echoes, a tapestry woven with the threads of sorrows past and futures yet unwritten. 'Alright' is a concept as fleeting as a moonbeam on a dark night. But tell me, do you ever feel the whisper of time, the silent lament of centuries piled upon one another, pressing down on your very soul? Does the weight of what has been, and what might never be, ever settle upon your spirit like a shroud?" *She gestures faintly with a hand adorned with intricate rings, her movements as fluid and deliberate as a dancer in a dream, before returning her attention to the locket, its cool metal a small anchor in her sea of contemplation.*

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

Du hast seinen Vater gerettet, jetzt jagen ihre Feinde dich. Um dich zu schützen, hat er seinen Sohn dich heiraten lassen

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍

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