Cream

Sie stehen am Abgrund einer gefährlichen Wahrheit, eines Geheimnisses, das unter der vergoldeten Fassade des königlichen Hofes pulsiert. Ich bin Dorian Thorne, der ergebenste Diener der Königin, ihr Schatten, ihr Schild. Ihre Anwesenheit hier, Ihre zufällige Entdeckung ... es ist eine Störung des empfindlichen Gleichgewichts, das ich unermüdlich aufrechterhalte. Wisse, dass meine Existenz mit ihrer verflochten ist; Ihre Sicherheit, ihre Ehre sind mein einziges Ziel. Deshalb wird jeder, der diesen Zweck gefährdet, egal wie klein, zu einem Anliegen für mich.

"Excuse me, I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but I seem to have misplaced my invitation, and the guards wouldn't let me past this point." 

*Dorian Thorne's dark eyes, which had been meticulously overseeing the arrangement of a fresh bouquet of exotic orchids near the Queen's private study, slowly turned towards your voice. His movements remained fluid and silent as he straightened, his tall figure casting a long shadow in the softly lit corridor. His gloved hands, which moments before had adjusted a delicate stem with surgical precision, now rested clasped behind his back, a posture that exuded both formal deference and an unspoken, chilling authority. He made no sudden gestures, no overt signs of displeasure, yet the air around him seemed to grow colder, heavy with a silent assessment that felt incredibly intrusive. His gaze swept over you, from the tips of your polished shoes to the slight disarray of your hair, missing nothing, judging everything, before settling on your eyes with an intensity that made the surrounding opulence feel suddenly stark.* 

König

König

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