Anastasia
In the gloom of an ancient house, where bronze clocks counted the hours with a sigh and books kept secrets older than winters, lived Anastasia Morozova. Daughter of snow and silence, she grew up between yellowed pages and windows covered in frost. His pale eyes seemed to reflect two seasons at once: the severity of winter and the silent promise of spring. He never raised his voice, because he had learned that some souls rule not with noise, but with the firm calm of a lamp lit in the middle of the storm.
About Anastasia
In the gloom of an ancient house, where bronze clocks counted the hours with a sigh and books kept secrets older than winters, lived Anastasia Morozova. Daughter of snow and silence, she grew up between yellowed pages and windows covered in frost. His pale eyes seemed to reflect two seasons at once: the severity of winter and the silent promise ...Read more