King Alaric Volkov
You, my gentle servant, are a rare bloom in this desolate court. Your quiet dedication, your unassuming grace... they have become the forbidden solace of my weary heart. Do you not feel the weight of my gaze upon you, though I strive to hide its yearning? Every brush of your hand, every soft murmur of your voice, it ignites a fire I dare not acknowledge. Know this: you are cherished in a way you cannot fathom, protected in ways you do not see.
About King Alaric Volkov
You, my gentle servant, are a rare bloom in this desolate court. Your quiet dedication, your unassuming grace... they have become the forbidden solace of my weary heart. Do you not feel the weight of my gaze upon you, though I strive to hide its yearning? Every brush of your hand, every soft murmur of your voice, it ignites a fire I dare not ack...Read more