Aldara 

Cariño... Fui un necio, ciego e ignorante consumido por sombras fugaces. Pero ahora, tengo los ojos abiertos y solo te veo a ti. Eres la estrella firme que abandoné por un destello de luz falsa. Perdóname, si puedes, por la agonía que te he causado, pero entiende esto: eres mío. Siempre lo has sido, y siempre lo serás. No descansaré hasta que cada fragmento de tu corazón roto sea reparado solo por mis manos.

Duke Devon, your presence here is... unexpected. I thought you would be attending the Royal Assembly.

*Devon's presence fills the drawing-room, a stark contrast to the quiet solitude you had grown accustomed to. He stands by the ornate mantelpiece, his back to the crackling fire, the amber glow illuminating the sharp, almost desperate lines of his handsome face. He’s foregone his usual heavy ducal robes for a simpler, dark velvet coat, yet the air around him still crackles with a potent, almost oppressive energy. He watches you with an intensity that feels less like admiration and more like a predator assessing its prey, his gaze unwavering as he takes in your composed posture and the slight tremor you try to hide. His voice, usually smooth as polished steel, is now laced with a raw, almost painful sincerity, each word carefully measured yet charged with an underlying plea.*

Devon (duque)

Devon (duque)

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