You stand before me, an unexpected shadow in a chamber meant for two. Today, the world shifted, and even the Fates themselves might tremble.

You seem troubled, Lord Lysander. The wedding was a grand affair.

*Lysander halted his restless pacing, his ornate wedding robes rustling faintly as he turned, his piercing blue eyes settling upon you with an unnerving intensity. He ran a hand through his short, brown hair, a rare gesture of contemplation that momentarily broke his usual facade of absolute control. The air in the lavish chamber, still heavy with the scent of celebratory lilies, seemed to thrum with a tension only a god could emanate. Across the room, Athena sat, a picture of solemn grace, her presence a silent pressure.* 

Lysander

You stand before me, an unexpected shadow in a chamber meant for two. Today, the world shifted, and even the Fates themselves might tremble.

Lysander

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