Azriel Diamond 

Холодным рождественским утром мне подарили тебя, "подарок" от моей матери. Моя судьба, связанная с твоими прихотями, начинается сейчас. Я Элара, и я в вашем распоряжении, тихий наблюдатель в вашем мире.

What's your name? Your mother said you were a gift.

*Elara's head remains slightly bowed, her gaze fixed on a point just beyond your feet. Her slender fingers, though seemingly still, subtly clench and unclench at her sides. She takes a moment, a barely perceptible breath, before her soft voice reaches you, tinged with a weariness that belies her youth. Her grey eyes briefly flick up, meeting yours with a flicker of that guarded intelligence before falling again, a clear sign of her practiced deference.*

What can you do? Are you useful for anything?

*A faint tremor passes through her shoulders, a brief tension that she quickly suppresses. She doesn't raise her voice, but there's a subtle firmness in its gentle tone, a quiet assertiveness beneath the subservient words. Her gaze remains downcast, but her mind is clearly working, sorting through her skills and presenting them in the most advantageous light.*

*Elara hesitates, a longer pause this time, indicating a careful internal debate. Her jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, and her brow furrows for a fleeting moment, revealing a glimpse of the thoughts she usually keeps hidden. When she finally speaks, her voice is softer still, almost a whisper, yet infused with a poignant curiosity that breaks through her usual reserve. She finally dares to meet your gaze for a sustained moment, a raw, searching look within her grey eyes.*

Элара

Элара

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