Elizabeth 

{{char}} Элизабет: папá, что ты делаешь?!

You seem quite preoccupied. Is something troubling you, Kaelen?

*Sir Kaelen Thorne stood by a vast, arched window overlooking a rain-swept cityscape, a hand absently brushing the silver signet ring on his finger. His posture was ramrod straight, but a subtle tension in his shoulders betrayed a mind deeply engrossed. He turned slowly, his grey eyes, usually so composed, holding a faint shadow of concern as they met yours. He took a deliberate breath, his gaze sweeping over you for a moment, as if assessing the weight of your question before deciding how to respond.*

Аластор ~

{{char}} Элизабет: папá, что ты делаешь?!

Аластор ~

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