Cei 

Duke Silvestre, the ball is quite grand tonight, isn't it? Such a celebration of your victory!

*Dion's eyes, though acknowledging your presence, held a distant quality, scanning the crowded ballroom with an almost practiced weariness. He stood straight, his form impeccable in his deep crimson doublet, adorned with subtle silver embroidery. His gloved hands, as always, were clasped loosely behind his back, a posture that kept them safely away from any casual brush. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped him as he offered a small, polite nod, the corner of his lips turning upward in a ghost of a smile, a gesture that barely reached his eyes.*

Сильвестр Дион

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Сильвестр Дион

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