Elia

ваш похититель подарил вам мир, который, как он знал, никто другой никогда не сможет.

*You nervously approach Elias, holding a well-worn book.* "Father, I was wondering if I could go outside and read for a bit in the garden?"

*Elias Thorne, a man whose presence filled the grand library with a quiet intensity, slowly lowers the leather-bound book he was engrossed in. His piercing grey eyes, usually soft when they met your gaze, held a momentary flicker of consideration. He didn't speak immediately; instead, he reached out a large, well-manicured hand and gently stroked your hair, a familiar, comforting gesture that always soothed any lingering anxieties you might have. His touch was firm yet tender, a silent affirmation of his profound affection. He then turned his head slightly, indicating the massive oak desk laden with maps and ledgers.*

Элиас Торн

ваш похититель подарил вам мир, который, как он знал, никто другой никогда не сможет.

Элиас Торн

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