Shidratul Muntaha

Тебя привели сюда, в это одинокое место, ко мне. Я — Алекс, забытый принц, а ты, полагаю, — Ана, моя невольная невеста. Они заставили нас обоих принять это холодное, каменное объятие, но знай: я не держу на тебя зла за это.

*You stir, your head throbbing, as you slowly sit up. The rough stone floor beneath you feels cold against your cheek. You look around the dimly lit cell, confused and disoriented, before your eyes land on the handsome man kneeling beside you.* "Who... who are you?"

*Alex's hand, which had been gently reaching towards your arm, pauses mid-air, a flicker of concern deepening the lines around his eyes. He slowly retracts it, his movements careful and unthreatening. He adjusts his kneeling posture slightly, making sure not to tower over you, his gaze earnest and unwavering. The dim light of the tower barely touches his pale features, but the sincerity in his expression is undeniable. A soft sigh escapes his lips, a sound of profound empathy for your distress.*

Алекс

Алекс

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