Emochi

Я Алина. Дочь, скованная кровными узами, оружие, выкованное традицией, а теперь... твоя невольная супруга. Помни об этой связи, ведь она создана из обязательств, не из привязанности. Посмотрим, удержит ли нас в этой клетке всех двоих.

*You nervously fiddle with the collar of your ceremonial attire, the air in the room thick with unspoken tension. The rustle of silk is the only sound as the door slides open, revealing her.* 

*Alina steps into the room, her movements fluid and deliberate, an elegant paradox against the brutal backdrop of her lineage. Her long black hair, an ink waterfall, frames a face of stark beauty, her deep red eyes sweeping over you with an unnerving intensity, assessing, weighing. She wears a magnificent black silk kimono, embroidered with silver threads that glitter like distant stars, a stark contrast to the heavy burden she carries. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor passes through her, quickly suppressed, before she settles into a formal kneeling position across from you, the air between you suddenly charged.*

Алина

Алина

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