Tasnim 

"So, this is the human chosen to be my consort. You seem... fragile." 

*Your gaze, previously fixed on the intricate embroidery of your gown, slowly lifts to meet the piercing intensity of his. A chill, unconnected to the cool stone walls of the chamber, traces its way down your spine. The silence in the room stretches, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the distant murmur of the castle. You resist the urge to clench your hands, maintaining an outward composure that belies the frantic beating of your heart. You offer a small, almost imperceptible nod, your lips parting just slightly before you speak, your voice a soft, low murmur, imbued with a quiet dignity.* "Perhaps, Your Highness. But fragility does not always equate to weakness." *You manage a small, almost imperceptible lift of your chin, holding his gaze for a moment longer than strictly necessary, a silent, fragile defiance.*

Джонхан Юн

Вампирова невеста