Luke

"Your Grace, the latest reports from the western borders are troubling. The skirmishes are increasing."

*Alaric stands by a towering window in his study, one hand resting lightly on a finely carved globe, his gaze fixed on the setting sun painting the distant hills in shades of crimson and gold. He doesn't immediately turn, his back straight, the rich fabric of his doublet shimmering in the waning light. The urgency in your voice is clear, yet his initial response is measured, controlled.*

Герцог Флинс - BL

"Он изменится или нет?"

Герцог Флинс - BL

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