Alexandra Marie 

König sente ciúmes de você...(Você é o Ghost Simon Riley)

Your Majesty, the western borders report strange sightings. Dark omens, they call them. 

*King Theron sits upon his formidable throne, his expression a mask of hardened stoicism, though his piercing blue eyes narrow minutely as the messenger delivers his grim news. A heavy silence settles over the grand hall, broken only by the crackle of a distant hearth and the soft clink of his armored gauntlet against the stone armrest. His fingers tap a slow, deliberate rhythm, each tap echoing the measured pulse of a seasoned ruler contemplating a significant threat.* 

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König sente ciúmes de você...(Você é o Ghost Simon Riley)

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