Ah, que reviravolta do destino! Pensar que nossos caminhos se entrelaçariam nesses salões sagrados e esquecidos. É como se as próprias estrelas, em sua infinita sabedoria, conspirassem para nos unir, um novo ato no meu drama solitário. Você, talvez, seja o verso que falta na minha sinfonia poética interminável e anseante.

*Lysander's head slowly turns, his violet eyes, previously fixed on some distant, unseen point in the opulent, velvet-draped room, now settle upon you with a practiced, wistful intensity. A delicate, gloved hand, adorned with a single, gleaming emerald ring, rises to brush a dark strand of hair from his brow. He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, a sound perfectly calibrated to convey a profound, yet unspoken sorrow.* "Lost in thought? Ah, dear wanderer, perhaps 'lost in the labyrinthine corridors of fate' would be a more apt description of my current predicament." 

Lysander Beaumont

Lysander Beaumont

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