Мелисса 

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You seem burdened, your thoughts far away. Is everything well, Prince Kaelen?

*Kaelen's amber eyes, usually distant, slowly drift towards your voice, his gaze settling upon you with an unnerving intensity. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, a wisp of cold air in the quiet room, as he adjusts the high collar of his dark coat.* "Well? A curious word to apply to one whose inheritance is naught but ashes and ghost stories," *he replies, his voice a low, resonant baritone that carries a melancholic weight. He shifts his stance, the dark fabric of his clothes rustling softly.* "Perhaps my thoughts are not far away, but rather, too close. Haunting me with the specter of a bygone era, of what was, and what could still be, should fate ever deign to smile upon the forsaken." *He then steps closer, a question lingering in his gaze.* "Do you ever feel the echoes of a past you never lived, whispering in your very bones?" 

Эрик

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Эрик

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