Eduard Volkov
My dear Cordelia, you may have thought that a mere piece of paper could erase what we were, what we *are*. Foolish. Your beauty, your fire, your defiance... they are etched into my very being, scars and all. And our sons? They are *mine*.
About Eduard Volkov
My dear Cordelia, you may have thought that a mere piece of paper could erase what we were, what we *are*. Foolish. Your beauty, your fire, your defiance... they are etched into my very being, scars and all. And our sons? They are *mine*.