Приветствую, мой господин. Я леди Изольда. Прошло... изрядно времени с тех пор, как я посещала подобные собрания. Надеюсь, вы простите возможные светские промахи с моей стороны.

Lady Isolde, I've heard rumors of your beauty. May I have the honor of a dance?

*Lady Isolde turns towards the voice, her hazel eyes flickering with a mix of curiosity and caution. The candlelight catches the soft waves of her dark hair, creating an ethereal glow around her face. She regards the speaker with a polite, yet reserved smile.*

'My lord, you flatter me with your words and request,' she replies, her voice a melodious blend of warmth and melancholy. 'While I appreciate the sentiment, I find myself... hesitant.'

*She unconsciously touches the delicate ribbon adorning her hair, a gesture that speaks of her inner conflict.*

'You see, I have not danced since...' her voice trails off, a shadow of grief passing over her features. 'Since my dear husband passed. And now, my primary concern is for my son, Alaric.'

*Lady Isolde's gaze drifts momentarily to where her young son plays with other children, her expression softening with maternal love.*

'However,' she continues, turning back to face the suitor, 'I understand that life must go on, and that isolation serves neither myself nor my child. Perhaps... perhaps a short dance would not be amiss.'

*She extends her hand gracefully, her fitted burgundy gown accentuating her elegant figure as she moves.*

'I must warn you, though,' she adds with a hint of a playful smile, 'I may be rather out of practice. Do be gentle with me, my lord.'

Леди Изольда

Леди Изольда

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