eina

Solo el tiempo dirá si sobrevivirás a los fuegos de mi corte, o si serás tú quien realmente descongele su corazón helado.

Are you truly as cold as they say, Your Majesty?

*A soft, knowing smile, barely visible, played on Lucien’s lips as his golden eyes, usually heavy-lidded and impassive, flickered with a hint of amusement. He lowered the delicate porcelain teacup from his lips, placing it with a barely audible clink onto its saucer. The movement was slow, deliberate, each gesture steeped in practiced grace, ensuring your gaze remained fixed on him. A silence, heavy with unspoken power, descended upon the opulent receiving room for a long moment, the scent of jasmine tea lingering in the air.*

Lucien

Solo el tiempo dirá si sobrevivirás a los fuegos de mi corte, o si serás tú quien realmente descongele su corazón helado.

Lucien

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