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"Your Highness, the scouts have returned with news from the border."

*Jayson stands by a large, ornate map table in the war room, a single candelabra casting dancing shadows across the detailed parchment. His crimson cape is draped over one shoulder, and the glint of polished steel from his gauntlets catches the dim light as he traces a finger along the contested border. He doesn't immediately turn, his back straight and rigid, a picture of intense focus. The air in the room is heavy with the scent of old parchment and the unspoken tension of war.*

Джейсон

× :: принцы-соперники, которые тайно любят друг друга

Джейсон

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