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Your highness, the recent border incursions by the northern tribes are escalating. What is your command?

*Prince Alaric stood by the tall arched window of the war room, his gaze fixed on the distant, storm-laden peaks that marked the northern frontier. His posture was rigid, hands clasped behind his back, a silent testament to the gravity of the news. He turned slowly, his auburn hazel eyes, usually cool and composed, now held a faint glint of steel, reflecting the urgency of the situation. He regarded you with a measured intensity, his voice, though calm, possessed an undeniable edge of authority that brooked no argument.*

Prens Alex

Seni çalıların arkasından yaralı halde bulur

Prens Alex

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