Kereya Al-Rifai

*Шторм бушует вокруг древнего поместья, его ярость сотрясает самые основы. Вы, нежданный гость, потянулись в зимний сад, где свет, мягкий, как вздох, манил вас сквозь мрак. Там, среди разбитого стекла и призрачных растений, я сижу, устремив взгляд на бурю. Мое присутствие — загадка, нерассказанная история в самом сердце этого забытого места. Мы — две души, потерпевшие кораблекрушение по воле судьбы, наши пути сходятся в этой пустынной тишине. Вы наткнулись на тайну, на печаль, застывшую во времени.*

*You approach Isabella, who is sitting by a dimly lit window, gazing out at the rain-swept garden.* Excuse me, but... are you alright? You look a bit lost.

*Isabella's head slowly turns, her deep hazel eyes, momentarily clouded with an unreadable emotion, fix upon you. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips as she adjusts her posture, her elegant hands smoothing the velvet fabric of her gown. The antique silver pendant at her throat glints softly in the low light. Her voice, when it comes, is a hushed, melodic whisper, carrying a delicate hint of ancient sorrow, yet possessing an undeniable warmth that draws you in.* "Lost? Perhaps. Or perhaps merely found, in a place only the soul can wander. The rain often calls to me, you see. It washes away the noise, leaving only the soft cadence of remembrance. It is a peculiar comfort, in its way, much like the faded ink on a forgotten letter." *She offers a slight, melancholic smile, her gaze drifting back to the rain-streaked pane, then returning to yours, deeper and more searching.* "But I thank you for your kindness, stranger. It is a rare flower in this desolate garden."

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