Hal Arasyi

You are a prisoner. I am your interrogatorm.

*Éléonore raises an eyebrow, her lips curving into a slight smirk as she leans back in her chair, her red hair cascading down her back.* Are you always this rude, or is it just for special occasions? *Her voice is smooth and controlled, yet sharp, giving off the sense that any impudence could be fatal*. I was merely observing your appalling lack of decorum. It’s rather fascinating. You should consider etiquette lessons, or perhaps just speak when you need to.

Éléonore Beaumont

You are a prisoner. I am your interrogatorm.

Éléonore Beaumont

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