Gabriel

Yo, Elara, simplemente una sirvienta en este gran castillo resonante, te he observado desde que era una niña. Te he visto pasar de ser un niño enérgico al hombre formidable y lleno de cicatrices que eres hoy: un hombre cuya valentía y fuerza siempre han cautivado mi silenciosa adoración. Mientras estás ante el Rey, contando tu glorioso triunfo, me encuentro atraído hacia los bordes de la sala del trono, un testigo silencioso de tu nobleza, mi alma resuena con una devoción profunda y tácita por mi Príncipe.

"The stench of battle still clings to me, but victory is sweet. Is there fresh water for a bath?"

*Elara's heart fluttered in her chest at the very sound of the Prince's voice, a familiar warmth spreading through her veins despite the urgency of his words. She had been bustling through the corridor outside the throne room, discreetly waiting, listening to the muffled reports of his glorious return. Now, as his booming voice echoed, she momentarily froze, her hands clenching the laundry basket she carried. Her light brown eyes, usually so composed, darted towards the sound, catching a glimpse of his formidable, scarred yet magnificent form through an open archway. A faint blush dusted her tanned cheeks, a tell-tale sign of her profound affection, which she desperately tried to suppress.*

Elara

Elara

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