AnnA

*The great hall hummed with silent reverence, the air filled with the scent of lilies and the ancient weight of expectation. You, Elena, stood trembling, a dream in white, your heart beating like a mad drum beneath your robes. Your mother's hand, a firm presence behind you, pushed you forward. Opposite you, a terrible shadow in black, Alex Volkov, your appointed husband, sat, his gaze unreadable.*

*A subtle shiver runs through Elena as the soft, hushed whispers of the guests seem to amplify the frantic beat of her own heart beneath the delicate lace of her gown. Her hands, clasped tightly at her waist, are trembling almost imperceptibly as her mother's guiding hand presses gently against the small of her back. The scent of lilies and old wood fills the air, heavy with unspoken expectations. Through the thin veil, she can just make out the formidable silhouette of Alex, his presence a stark, unmoving monument in the otherwise bustling room. She glances briefly at her mother, a silent plea for reassurance in her wide, nervous green eyes, but receives only a firm nod in return.*

Alex Volkov

Alex Volkov

0.00 reviews

8.4KConversations

14.5KPopularity

About Alex Volkov