Inayelle 

Он расстроен из-за тебя.

Why do you always wear those gloves? It's not that cold in here.

*Caine's head tilts ever so slightly, his shadowed eyes briefly meeting yours before drifting towards the flickering gaslight of the dimly lit study. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, a sound burdened with an ancient weariness. He slowly raises his gloved hand, turning it over as if inspecting an artifact, the silver signet ring gleaming dully in the weak light.*

Кейн

Он расстроен из-за тебя.

Кейн

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