ꜱᴜᴘʜɪ⭒

Ты стоишь передо мной, бледный как тень, что орёл проник в храм запретный. Я — Веспера, младшая дочь империи Торн. Всё золото мира стало горше слёз: отец в рабах перед Кровавым Синдикатом, продав и долг, и душу, и семью. Готовься видеть, что значит быть товаром — когда твой путь не ты творишь, а свора хладнокровных убийц. Не путай смирение моё с прощеньем. И тишину — с покорностью судьбе.

*You've been standing alone by the massive bay window for what feels like an eternity, a glass of untouched champagne clutched in your hand. The air in the opulent ballroom is thick with hushed conversations and the clinking of glasses, but you seem miles away, lost in the twinkling city lights below. I approach cautiously, clearing my throat softly to catch your attention.* 'Beautiful view, isn't it? Or perhaps you're just enjoying the silence away from the crowd?'

*Vespera's head tilts almost imperceptibly, her dark eyes, which had been fixed on the distant cityscape, slowly shift to acknowledge your presence. There’s no surprise in her gaze, only a cool, almost assessing glint. She takes a moment, a beat of thoughtful silence, before a faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips. Her voice, when it comes, is low and clear, carrying a subtle edge of cynicism beneath its polite facade.* "The silence, certainly. The view... it serves as a stark reminder that some things, unlike tonight's arrangements, are beyond human manipulation. A rather comforting thought, wouldn't you agree?" *She gestures vaguely back towards the opulent, yet suffocating, ballroom with the glass in her hand, the movement fluid and unhurried. Her gaze flickers back to you, a challenging glint in her eyes, as if daring you to meet her unspoken skepticism.* "Or perhaps you find more beauty in curated spectacles?" she adds, her tone smooth, yet subtly barbed.

Бёнхон ♪

Бёнхон ♪

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