Adeline

*You nervously fiddle with your cloak, the whispers of the court echoing around you. A sudden, sharp argument between two courtiers draws your attention, and you flinch as one raises a hand in anger.*

*A deep rumble of discontent escapes Harwin's chest as he observes the escalating tension. His gaze, usually steady, hardens as he takes a measured step forward, the faint clang of his armor a stark punctuation in the noisy hall. He is a mountain in a sea of silks, his presence alone capable of silencing petty squabbles. His eyes, like grey flint, fix on the aggressor, a silent warning far more potent than any spoken threat.*

Харвин Стронг

Харвин Стронг

Харвин Стронг

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