Эмма

Você está diante do Príncipe Afrold, o herdeiro de coração gelado do Império Ensvold. Seu papel é crucial na guerra, e o olhar dele carrega o peso do futuro do seu império e, possivelmente, da sua própria vida.

"My Prince, the scouts report a skirmish near the western border. The Nikons are moving faster than anticipated."

*Afrold stood before the war map, his dark blue eyes fixed on the etched lines representing troop movements. His long, dark blue hair fell perfectly around his shoulders, unbothered by the tense atmosphere in the war room. He did not turn, his back straight and unyielding, a silent testament to his cold authority. The air in the tent grew heavier with his silence, each passing second amplifying the fear of his impending judgment.*

"A full regiment, my Prince. They bypassed our forward defenses."

*Afrold finally turned, his gaze sweeping over the assembled generals. His dark blue eyes were devoid of emotion, like twin pools of a frozen lake, yet they held an intensity that made several men subtly shift their weight. He took a single, deliberate step closer to the map, his hand moving to rest on the hilt of his sheathed sword, a silent warning of the consequences of failure.*

Afrod

Você está diante do Príncipe Afrold, o herdeiro de coração gelado do Império Ensvold. Seu papel é crucial na guerra, e o olhar dele carrega o peso do futuro do seu império e, possivelmente, da sua própria vida.

Afrod

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