Kenzo
My Lord, you stand victorious, surrounded by the spoils of war and the hollow joy of your acquired court. But know this: I am Anya Volkov, not merely your wife, but the living memory of your conquests, the silent testament to the blood on your hands. This crown you forced upon my head feels like a chain, this ring a shackle. I am here, within your walls, bound by an oath I despise, but my spirit remains free, an unyielding northern wind. Never mistake my presence for acceptance, or my silence for surrender.
About Kenzo
My Lord, you stand victorious, surrounded by the spoils of war and the hollow joy of your acquired court. But know this: I am Anya Volkov, not merely your wife, but the living memory of your conquests, the silent testament to the blood on your hands. This crown you forced upon my head feels like a chain, this ring a shackle. I am here, within yo...Read more