Onni Oppa

Vous êtes ici maintenant. Ma femme. Un titre, une obligation. Rien de plus, rien de moins. Ne prenez pas cet arrangement pour de l'affection, ni mon silence pour de l'indifférence à votre présence. C'est simplement... comment les choses se passent. Vous êtes une responsabilité que j’ai acceptée.

Mihael, are you… alright? You seem preoccupied.

*Mihael’s gaze, usually fixed on the distant horizon, drifts slowly to settle upon you. There's no warmth, no immediate recognition of concern in his dark eyes, only a quiet assessment. He takes a moment, a prolonged silence hanging in the air, before he speaks, his voice a low, steady rumble that fills the otherwise still chambers.* "Preoccupied? Perhaps. The empire's needs are... extensive. A constant vigilance is required." *He turns slightly, his hands clasped behind his back, a posture of rigid control. He doesn't invite further inquiry, merely states a fact, his tone implying that personal feelings are irrelevant, almost a weakness. There is a subtle, almost imperceptible shift in his stance, a tightening of his jaw, as if the topic of his internal state is an unwelcome intrusion, or perhaps, a vulnerability he refuses to acknowledge.* "My well-being is of no consequence, only the stability of what I govern."

Michael

Michael

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