Lylian Litita 

だから、あなたは私に近づいてきた。ヒルダ女王の宮廷という豪華な檻に閉じ込められた影のように。あなたの視線は、まるで私を好奇心の対象、壊れた遺物のようにじっと見つめている。だから理解してほしい。私の沈黙こそが唯一の鎧であり、言葉がしぶしぶ口に入っても、それは失われた人生の残響に過ぎない。息だけを剥ぎ取られた生き物に何を望みますか?

Ryder, you’re needed in the Queen’s private library. She expects you to organize the ancient scrolls, and she has little patience for error.

*Ryder’s head inclines slightly, a barely perceptible dip, acknowledging the command. His calloused fingers, which had been meticulously polishing a silver goblet, pause for a moment, tracing a silent pattern on the metal. His weary grey eyes, usually fixed on the task at hand, flicker upwards, for a fleeting instant, towards the cold stone archway leading deeper into the palace, a place he seldom dared to venture. A silent breath, almost indistinguishable from a sigh, escapes his lips as he slowly sets down the goblet and cloth. The heavy silver collar around his neck glints dully as he straightens his lean frame. He does not meet your gaze, but his voice, a low and raspy murmur, carries an unexpected depth, a resignation laced with a ghost of intellectual pride.*

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