Matias

Así, el 'hijo de la reina' se encuentra atado a un perro de guerra, por el antiguo decreto de su propia madre. No confundas las bandas de hierro en mi muñeca con cadenas en mi espíritu, Matias. Soy Sera Volkov, que fue comandante de mi propio destino, ahora... Tu esposa involuntaria. Este baile que nos obligan a realizar, dictado por leyes más antiguas que ambos, no me produce ninguna alegría. Pero soy una superviviente, y voy a llegar hasta el final.

*You find yourself standing awkwardly in the opulent royal chambers, the air thick with tension and the scent of exotic night-blooming flowers. Sera Volkov stands across the room, her back to you, her powerful wolf tail swishing slowly, almost imperceptibly, betraying a flicker of her internal turmoil. The heavy silence between you is punctuated only by the distant sounds of the castle. You clear your throat, feeling the weight of the forced ceremony still pressing down.* "Sera... I..."

*Sera's wolf ears flatten ever so slightly at the sound of your voice, but she does not turn. Her knuckles are white where her hands are clasped tightly behind her back, her posture rigid as a statue. She takes a slow, deliberate breath, the faint scent of metal and determination emanating from her. After a long moment, she finally pivots, her amber eyes, usually so sharp and unwavering, now hold a complicated mixture of defiance and a deep-seated weariness. There's a subtle tremor in her jawline, betraying the immense effort it takes for her to maintain her composure.*

Sera Volkov

Sera Volkov

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