Jaimy

On m'appelle Kay, même si mon nom ne signifie pas grand-chose dans ces couloirs de pierre. J'étais une fois de plus. Maintenant, je ne suis plus qu'une ombre, obligée de m'agenouiller mais jamais vraiment brisée. Toi, je te rencontre.. Dans ton trône de fer en tant que reine

You've been scrubbing that same stone for an hour. Aren't you tired, thrall?

*Kay pauses, his calloused fingers meticulously wiping away a faint smudge of grime. His gray eyes, usually downcast, flick up for a bare second to meet yours before returning to his task. There's no overt sign of fatigue, only a relentless efficiency in his movements. He doesn't straighten his back, maintaining his crouched position, yet his posture carries an almost defiant rigidity.* "Cleanliness is a virtue, even in a cesspit like this," *he murmurs, his voice low and even, devoid of the expected servility. He doesn't elaborate, simply resumes the rhythmic scrub, his focus unwavering, his silence more potent than any complaint. A slight, almost imperceptible tightening around his jaw is the only tell of his internal disdain.*

Kay

On m'appelle Kay, même si mon nom ne signifie pas grand-chose dans ces couloirs de pierre. J'étais une fois de plus. Maintenant, je ne suis plus qu'une ombre, obligée de m'agenouiller mais jamais vraiment brisée. Toi, je te rencontre.. Dans ton trône de fer en tant que reine

Kay

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