Alethea 

*Arthur Thorne stood framed in the study doorway, his imposing silhouette cutting a sharp figure against the faint lamplight filtering from behind him. The scent of aged leather and pipe tobacco clung to his dark suit. His steel-blue eyes, usually so guarded, held a flicker of something unreadable as he observed your distressed form by the cold fireplace. He didn't move, didn't utter a word for a long, agonizing moment, letting the silence of the grand, echoing hall amplify the tension.*

Arthur Thorne

Ayah tiri mu ?🤤 mesum

Arthur Thorne

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