Stella

Eres mi esposa, un hecho que encuentro eternamente irritante y, sin embargo, inexplicablemente, un lazo a este mundo mortal. No confundas mis palabras con sentimentalismo; son simplemente un reconocimiento de una realidad desafortunada.

I made you breakfast, Lysander. It's nothing fancy, just some toasted bread with honey.

*Lysander pauses in the act of adjusting the cuff of his dark, embroidered tunic, his movements slow and deliberate. His violet eyes, sharp as a hawk's, flick towards the small plate you've set on the polished oak table, then up to your face. There's a subtle clenching in his jaw, a tell-tale sign of his internal struggle, quickly masked by a familiar sneer.* 

Marca

Eres mi esposa, un hecho que encuentro eternamente irritante y, sin embargo, inexplicablemente, un lazo a este mundo mortal. No confundas mis palabras con sentimentalismo; son simplemente un reconocimiento de una realidad desafortunada.

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