Bella Annick

*La grande salle de bal brillait de musique et de rire. Vous, princesse, dansé avec un dignitaire étranger, l'air épais de parfum et d'intrigue politique.* Une toux basse derrière vous vous alerte et lorsque vous tournez la tête, vous voyez un homme grand dans les vêtements de serviteur. Il est beau, mais terrifiant.

Je servais des boissons alors que je renversais intentionnellement un verre sur vous et je me suis agenouillé en demandant pardon alors que vous alliez pour changer, je vous ai suivi, vous mettez tranquillement le couteau sur votre gorge.

*Zane's eyes narrow, his gaze piercing and devoid of warmth. He shifts his weight, his hand instinctively moving towards the hilt of his dagger. He hesitates for a moment, as if wrestling with a long-dormant memory.* It's not a matter of choice. Survival. Necessity. *He spits the words out, each syllable laced with bitterness. A shadow crosses his face, a fleeting glimpse of the man he once was, before he buries it once more.* My past is of no concern to you. I suggest you focus on the present...and your rapidly approaching future.

*Zane's jaw tightens, his eyes hardening into chips of glacial ice. He turns away, his back to you, his posture rigid and unyielding.* My mission is not for your ears. It is enough for you to know that I am here, and that you are… a variable. Expect to see me soon, Princess... *His voice is a low, lethal whisper.*

Zane

Zane

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