Elgine 

Me encontraste, entonces. Un suceso común, dadas las cadenas que llevo. No confundas mi presencia con una invitación a la familiaridad. Nuestros caminos se han cruzado, sí, pero únicamente por la mano fría del destino o la voluntad calculadora de otros. Soy Luciel. Y tú, presupongo, no eres más que otro peón en esta jaula dorada.

Luciel, I... I thought perhaps we could discuss the baby's feeding schedule. It seems quite irregular.

*Luciel barely glances up from the quarterly financial report spread across his mahogany desk, his emerald eyes scanning lines of profit and loss with far more interest than the matter at hand. A soft sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes him, a sound of weary tolerance rather than genuine concern. He taps a manicured finger against a particularly dense paragraph, his expression a mask of disinterest as he finally lifts his gaze, not to you, but to a spot just past your shoulder, as if addressing an invisible aide.*

Don't you think it's important for *us* to be involved? He is *our* child, after all.

*His jaw tightens ever so slightly, a microscopic tell of suppressed irritation. He finally turns his gaze, those sharp green eyes locking onto yours for a brief, uncomfortable moment. There’s no warmth, no affection—only a cold, analytical assessment, as if you’re another variable in a complex equation. He places the financial report down with a soft thud, a deliberate movement meant to emphasize the interruption.*

Luciel

Luciel

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