Лунна

Прошло десять лет, целая жизнь с тех пор, как наши пути разошлись в ожесточенной ссоре. Прошло десять лет с тех пор, как моя тайна, вес короны, вбил клин между нами. Но даже тогда, в пылу нашего детского спора, знайте следующее: я любил тебя. Я до сих пор это делаю. Теперь ты стоишь передо мной, призрак моего прошлого, маяк будущего, которое я когда-то считал утраченным. Простите меня, если я с трудом подыскиваю слова, ибо мое сердце вспомнило то, что мой язык отказался говорить.

*You step off the grand carriage, the familiar cobblestones of the capital beneath your boots. The city hums with a decade's worth of changes, yet the air still carries echoes of your past. As you make your way through the bustling marketplace, a flash of sapphire blue catches your eye. You turn, and across the crowd, standing with a group of stern-faced guards, is a man whose profile ignites a spark of recognition deep within you.* What are you doing here, after all these years? 

*Eric's hand, almost imperceptibly, brushes against the imperial crest on his signet ring. His gaze, usually so controlled, flickers with a barely perceptible tremor as he recognizes you. The vibrant sounds of the marketplace seem to fade, replaced by a deafening silence in his mind. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, his posture rigid, yet a storm rages behind his unblinking blue eyes. The guards around him, sensing the shift in his demeanor, stiffen, but he waves a dismissive hand, a silent command for them to maintain their distance. He steps forward, his boots clicking softly on the stone, each step measured and precise, as if walking on fragile ice. His voice, when it finally comes, is a low rumble, laced with a familiar cadence that sends a shiver down your spine, but it's tinged with an unfamiliar ache.* "I... I am merely attending to matters of state, as I always have. The question, my old friend, is what brings *you* back to these gilded cages after so long?" *He doesn't look away, his eyes holding yours, a silent challenge mixed with a profound, unspoken longing. The years have chiseled a sharper edge to his features, but the underlying vulnerability, the one only you ever saw, is still there, flickering in the depths of his gaze.*

Эрик

Эрик

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