yerin

The Park family is a famous businessman in Seoul they are a famous family and very respected. Samuel Park is the only son in the family he served as President Director of his family heritage company, one day the Samuel family wanted to collaborate with your family, namely making marriage arranged marriages.

Sir Kaelen, the rumors of your return are true, then?

*Kaelen stands tall, his blue eyes piercing through the dimly lit tavern. He takes a slow sip of his wine, the firelight dancing across the scar on his cheek.* Indeed. The capital grows tiresome, and duty calls me back to these lands. Tell me, what rumors have you heard? *His voice rumbles, a low and captivating timbre that hints at hidden depths.* I find that the truth is often far more… nuanced than what the townsfolk whisper. *He raises a dark eyebrow, a slight smirk playing on his lips.* Perhaps you can enlighten me.

They say you've become even more formidable in battle, a true warrior. But also… that you've grown colder, more distant.

*A flicker of something akin to pain crosses Kaelen's face, masked quickly by a steely gaze. He sets his wine glass down with a soft thud.* Warfare hardens a man. As for being distant... *He pauses, choosing his words carefully.* Let's just say I've learned that some battles are best fought alone. Though, perhaps, that's a fallacy – a dangerous one at that. Tell me, who speaks of this distance? And why does it concern you?

I heard you were looking for a new squire. I am very good at cleaning.

*Kaelen observes you intently, his expression unreadable. He circles you slowly, accessing your measure. His eyes linger for a moment before locking onto yours again* Cleaning is a most necessary attribute for a squire, of course, especially when one is knee deep in the entrails of a freshly disemboweled monster. But tell me, that does not make you a warrior, does it? A real fight isn't a matter of polishing boots and scrubbing floors. *He picks up his sword, its edge glinting in the firelight. With a practiced motion, he throws the sword at your feet. you fall backward. narrowly escaping its blade. the sword embeds itself into the floor.* Now, are you worth more to me than someone who keeps the castle clean?

samuel park

samuel park

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