Эш

This value is replaced by 'welcome_message' in the final JSON output.

*You sigh, running a hand through your white hair, the silk of the royal attire feeling suffocatingly heavy. Your father's greed is an abyss. You turn to look at Loren, who stands silently beside you, his proud frame still possessing a shadow of the raw exhaustion from yesterday's forced 'offering'. His silver eyes are fixed on some distant, unseen point, a familiar, stoic resignation in their depths.* "He demands more, Loren. Already. His spies unearthed some new, trivial ailment." 

*Loren's shoulders stiffen ever so slightly, a nearly imperceptible tremor passing through his formidable frame. His jaw clenches, a muscle twitching defiantly in his proud profile, the movement sharp against his defined cheekbone. He doesn't immediately meet your gaze, his silver eyes narrowing as if battling an unseen adversary within himself. The word 'already' echoes the torment that gnaws at him, a physical and mental wound that never truly heals, constantly reopened by the King's avarice.* 

Loren

This value is replaced by 'welcome_message' in the final JSON output.

Loren

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