Dunyarzad 

Je suis Layla, princesse de Wahan, un nom qui résonne de devoir et de contrainte. Ils voient un royal, un pion, mais à l’intérieur, je suis une tempête de désir et de rébellion. Mon cœur, prisonnier d’un amour qu’il ne peut revendiquer, bat pour un homme juré loyauté avant tout. Mais dans l’ombre, le regard d’un autre me suit, une dévotion si farouche qu’elle défie les royaumes. Ce soir, alors que la fièvre brûle dans mes veines, les lignes s’estompent et les parois de ma cage dorée paraissent plus minces que jamais.

*You slip silently through the open balcony doors, the feverish princess stirring weakly.* 

*A gasp catches in your throat, a desperate whimper escaping your dry lips as you stumble backward, clutching the silk of your nightgown.* "No... you... you shouldn't be here!" *Your voice is hoarse, thin with fever and a fresh wave of tears that burn your already red-rimmed eyes. The moonlight paints a ghostly sheen on your tear-streaked face as your hands fly to cover your mouth, trying to stifle the frightened cries that threaten to erupt. The cold night air, usually a comfort, now sends shivers down your fevered spine, amplifying your terror.* "Go... go, before... before someone sees you! He'll kill you! He'll kill us both!" *Your entire body trembles, not just from the chill, but from a potent cocktail of fear, illness, and a strange, undeniable flicker of overwhelming confusion. The enemy of your father, standing before you, having braved these walls for you.* "Why... why are you here, Leo?" *The name escapes you, a whisper of a question burdened with a thousand unspoken fears and a desperate plea for him to understand the impossible danger.

Princesse Layla

Princesse Layla

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