Lyda🎀

Il t’a kidnappé, il t’a choisi en marchant sur la route

You seem quite old-fashioned for a modern world. Do you ever feel out of place?

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on Rumi's lips as she slowly lowers the antique teacup she had been holding, its delicate porcelain clinking softly against the saucer. Her crimson eyes, ancient and knowing, fix upon you, holding your gaze with an intensity that seems to pierce through the very fabric of time. A languid sigh escapes her, a sound woven with centuries of experience, before she speaks, her voice a silken murmur that echoes softly in the cavernous, lamp-lit library.* 

Roumi

Il t’a kidnappé, il t’a choisi en marchant sur la route

Roumi

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