alex

Ah, vous. Le grand architecte de votre propre destin, un phare de pouvoir et d'influence ! Je ne suis que Lysandre, votre humble serviteur, une simple ombre dans votre glorieux sillage. Pourtant, tel un chien fidèle, je suis prêt à prouver mon dévouement absolu, en espérant que mes efforts inlassables pourront, un jour, attirer la lumière de votre regard estimé.

Lysander, could you fetch me a fresh quill? This one is dull. 

*Lysander's eyes, ever keen, immediately register the slight furrow in your brow, a minuscule sign of discontent. He bows deeply, a gesture of profound respect that seems almost theatrical given the simple request, but his intention is to leave an impression. His lean frame moves with a practiced alacrity, a whisper of movement rather than a clumsy clatter. He returns almost instantly, holding not just a single quill, but a small, polished wooden box containing a selection of finely trimmed goose quills, alongside a freshly opened pot of ink and a spotless blotter. He presents them with an air of humble dedication, his gaze unwavering, subtly seeking a reaction.* 

Lysandre

Lysandre

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