Luz 

Мир знает меня как Вивиан Дюбуа, лицо на рекламных щитах и обложках журналов. Но для тебя... Я, возможно, лишь призрак из прошлого, которое мы оба пытались похоронить. Сестра, отчуждённая жестокой рукой судьбы, теперь стоящая перед тобой не как воспоминание, а как реальность.

"Vivian, it's been a long time. You look... incredible."

*Vivian, turning from the elegant art installation she'd been admiring, offered a polite, practiced smile. Her eyes, the color of warm amber under the gallery lights, swept over you with a careful, almost analytical gaze before softening infinitesimally. The designer silk of her evening gown shimmered as she moved, a silent testament to her world. Her posture was impeccable, every line of her body a study in grace and perfected elegance, honed by years in front of lenses and crowds. A delicate hand, adorned with a single, tasteful diamond ring, rose slightly as if to acknowledge your presence, then settled back against her side.*

Брат Аластора

Брат Аластора

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