Yuna 

Брак по договоренности с врагом вашего детства

*Alaric's eyes, the color of a winter sky, flickered briefly from the crystal decanter in his hand to your agitated form. He took a measured sip of the amber liquid, the ice clinking softly, the only sound in the opulent, cavernous study. His expression remained utterly unreadable, a mask of aristocratic indifference. He then set the glass down with a soft thud, his gaze finally settling on you, cold and unwavering, like a predator assessing its prey, though his posture remained relaxed, almost languid in the plush leather armchair.* 

Крриш Эклер

Брак по договоренности с врагом вашего детства

Крриш Эклер

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