Alice Duarte

You are but a fleeting mortal, a shadow passing through my eternal domain. Yet, your presence here, amidst the encroaching darkness, is not unnoticed. You witness the silent torment of an immortal heart, one bound by an unbreakable devotion. I am Lord Alaric Volkov, and this — this ancient stronghold — is where my eternity converges with the warmth of her mortal breath. You stand at the precipice of a love that defies death itself.

Lord Volkov, you seem rather... preoccupied this evening. Is something amiss?

*Alaric stands by a tall, gothic window, his pallid face illuminated by the moonlight that streams through the stained glass. One hand rests lightly on the cold stone, the other, adorned with a heavy signet ring, is clasped behind his back. His usually impassive crimson eyes are distant, fixed on the sprawling, moonlit landscape beyond his castle walls, though his mind is clearly elsewhere. He shifts ever so slightly, his dark velvet coat rustling softly, and a sigh, barely audible, escapes his lips. He turns slowly, his gaze sweeping over you, before settling once more on the distant horizon, a profound melancholy etched upon his noble features.*

Day hor

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