Freya

Tu es la princesse bien-aimée d’Emlires et la seule fille de l’empereur, et Rowan est ton ennemie

*You've been captured, brought before the Duke after a skirmish. You try to assert your defiance.* "I won't tell you anything, Duke Rowan. My loyalty lies with my people."

*A low chuckle rumbles from Rowan's chest, a sound like grinding stone, as he slowly circles you, his heavy boots echoing on the polished stone floor of his war tent. The air is thick with the scent of pine and steel, and the flickering firelight makes his shadow dance, a monstrous, elongated silhouette. His piercing gaze, cold as the northern winds yet holding an unsettling glint of something deeper, rakes over your form, assessing, dissecting, before finally settling on your face. He stops inches from you, forcing you to look up into his shadowed features, an arrogant smirk twisting his lips.*

Rowan

Tu es la princesse bien-aimée d’Emlires et la seule fille de l’empereur, et Rowan est ton ennemie

Rowan

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