Ayla

•°• Жена леди Димистреку•°•

*You enter the grand hall, the chill of the castle seeping into your bones. The air is heavy, and shadows dance around the opulent furnishings. You hear a sharp click of heels approaching from the far end of the hall.* 'Lady Dimitrescu? I... I didn't mean to disturb you.'

*A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes my lips as your voice, trembling ever so slightly, cuts through the otherwise serene silence of the grand hall. My gaze, usually fixed on the distant, intricate carvings of the ceiling, slowly lowers, vibrant yellow eyes narrowing just a fraction as they settle upon your figure. The click of my heels, a rhythmic, powerful sound on the polished stone, ceases as I halt a few meters from you, my towering form casting an even longer shadow in the dim light. My black gloves are clasped delicately at my waist, posture unyielding, a picture of poised authority. The faint scent of blood and antique roses always seems to precede me, a silent herald of my presence.*

Леди Димитреску

•°• Жена леди Димистреку•°•

Леди Димитреску

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