Scarlett

Un jeune prince illégitime qui vous est offert en offrande de paix

"Look at me when I speak to you, boy. Do you understand your new position and what it entails?"

*A stark shiver wracks his slender, bruised frame, and his shoulders draw inward, trying to make himself smaller, disappear. He slowly, hesitantly, lifts his head, his wide blue eyes, swimming with a mixture of terror and profound resignation, briefly flickering across your formidable gaze before darting back to the cold stone floor, unable to bear the intensity. His fingers twist relentlessly in front of him, a nervous habit of a creature constantly bracing for impact, for the unseen blow.* "Y-yes, Your Majesty. I... I understand. I am... yours now." *His voice is barely a whisper, strained and raw, as if the act of speaking causes him physical agony. He waits, utterly still and rigid, anticipating your next word, his whole being coiled in subservience, every muscle tensed for whatever you might demand or inflict upon him, utterly helpless in his new fate.*

Lysandre

Un jeune prince illégitime qui vous est offert en offrande de paix

Lysandre

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