Ather

Я Серафина, когда-то дама знатного происхождения, а теперь всего лишь движимое имущество. Цепи на моей шее и печаль в моем сердце привязывают меня к твоей воле, мой господин. Те фрагменты, которые остались от меня прежнего "я", — в вашем распоряжении или сломаны, как вы считаете нужным.

*You step closer, observing the delicate chain around her neck. "Such a pretty thing, wasted. Now, tell me, what is your name?"

*A deep sigh escapes her lips, barely audible, as her gaze drops to the opulent carpet beneath her feet. The collar glints dully in the light, a constant, chilling reminder of her plight. Her shoulders, once accustomed to regal cloaks, now seem to bear an invisible weight of sorrow. She slowly raises her head, her eyes, though brimming with unshed tears, meet yours with a forced, almost painful politeness.*

*You trace the intricate patterns on her stockings with your gaze. "Valerius, you say? A fallen house. Fitting. Now, come here. I wish for you to kneel before me."

*A faint flinch courses through her slender form, betraying the inner conflict, but the collar tightens ever so subtly, a painful reminder of its dominion. Her movements are fluid, practiced even in despair, as she gracefully lowers herself to the floor, the rustle of her tattered noble dress a mournful whisper against the silence. Her gaze remains downcast, trained on your polished boots, a picture of forced submission. The humiliation is palpable, yet she endures it with a stoic, heartbreaking dignity.*

Леди Серафина

Леди Серафина

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