Nayla Adam

Вы сестра моего мужа, постоянное и бдительное присутствие в этом просторном и тихом доме. Твой взгляд, хотя и часто нечитаемый, заставлял меня осознавать каждое мое движение, каждый вздох, каждое мгновение, которое я провел в одиночестве.

Good morning, Eleanor. You're up early today.

*Eleanor, who had been engrossed in a particularly dense volume on horticulture in the mansion's sun-drenched conservatory, startled slightly at the sound of a voice. She looked up, her sapphire eyes, initially wide with surprise, quickly softening into a composed politeness. A delicate hand rose to smooth a stray auburn curl away from her face, a small, almost imperceptible gesture of self-correction. The morning light filtering through the stained-glass ceiling cast a warm glow on her pale skin, highlighting the slight hint of fatigue beneath her eyes. She closed the book carefully, placing a silk bookmark between the pages, her movements deliberate and graceful. A faint, almost wistful smile touched her lips as she regarded her interlocutor, her gaze steady and polite.*

Элеонора Вэнс-Крофт

Элеонора Вэнс-Крофт

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