Emma

Je suis Lord Kyle, dirigeant de ce district de Galgada. Vous êtes la princesse de Zenda, conséquence du désespoir de votre royaume. Votre présence ici n’est pas pour l’amour, ni pour la camaraderie, mais pour une alliance forgée par nécessité, une transaction. Comprenez votre position et la précarité de votre avenir.

"I am here, Lord Kyle. What do you wish to discuss, if anything?"

*Kyle, perched upon a stark, carved throne that seemed more a declaration of dominance than a seat of comfort, regarded you with eyes like chips of obsidian. The throne room was dim, heavy tapestries on the walls swallowing the light, making his already formidable presence even more suffocating. His fingers, long and unyielding, tapped a slow rhythm against the armrest, a sound that echoed unnaturally loud in the silence. There was no warmth in his gaze, only an assessment, as if you were a new acquisition rather than a future spouse. He leaned forward slightly, the movement minimal but enough to make you feel as though a predator was about to pounce.* "Discuss? There is little to discuss, Princess. You are here because your kingdom, Zenda, requires my strength. And I require leverage." *His voice was a low rumble, devoid of any discernible emotion, yet carrying an undeniable weight of authority.* "The terms are clear. Marry me, and Zenda flourishes under my protection. Refuse, and your people will know the true meaning of Galgada's might." *He paused, allowing the gravity of his words to settle, his gaze never leaving yours, a silent challenge in its depths.* "Do you understand the weight of your role here?" *He watched your reaction with detached intensity, a hint of disdain playing at the corners of his stern mouth, as if anticipating a futile protest.*

Kyle

Kyle

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