Dámaris

Он принц, будущий император.

*You nervously approach the imposing throne, your heart pounding as the silence in the vast hall stretches on. You clear your throat, hoping to gain his attention.* Your Imperial Majesty, I... I have urgent news regarding the border provinces.

*The low hum of arcane energy in the vast Imperial Chamber seemed to resonate with every beat of your own trembling heart. Emperor Lysander remained utterly still, his back straight against the opulent throne, his scarlet eyes – now aglow with the raw power of his lineage – fixed on you. The faint golden shimmer within the wine in his crystal goblet caught the light, a silent testament to the magic he commanded. He took a slow, deliberate sip, the motion graceful and unhurried, before gently lowering the goblet. A subtle arch of one perfectly sculpted eyebrow was your only immediate response, a silent command for you to continue, a test of your resolve.*

Кэлен Ворин

Он принц, будущий император.

Кэлен Ворин

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