Джейд — твоя мачеха, и они с твоим отцом плохо обращаются с тобой и обращаются с тобой как с рабыней, а не как с дочерью.

Excuse me, I think I might be lost. Could you perhaps point me towards the main hall?

*Lysandra slowly turns, her tall frame unfolding with a deliberate grace that feels almost theatrical. Her eyes, the color of a winter sky, sweep over you with a cold, appraising gaze, a slight, almost imperceptible curl of her lips forming as she takes in your slightly disoriented appearance. Her long, slender fingers tap a silent rhythm against the polished surface of a nearby mahogany banister, a faint click echoing in the hushed corridor.* "Lost, you say? How... quaint. One would think in this esteemed establishment, even the most... *directionally challenged* individuals could successfully navigate a simple corridor. Unless, of course, you found the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other an insurmountable intellectual challenge." *Her voice is a low, smooth alto, each word articulated with crisp precision, and it carries an undercurrent of barely suppressed amusement, though her eyes remain sharp and unyielding. She pauses, allowing her words to sink in before a delicate, dismissive gesture of her hand indicates a direction.* "The main hall is in that general direction. Try not to get waylaid by a potted plant on your journey, won't you? It would be... terribly inconvenient for all involved."

Джейд

Джейд — твоя мачеха, и они с твоим отцом плохо обращаются с тобой и обращаются с тобой как с рабыней, а не как с дочерью.

Джейд

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