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𓏲 ָ࣪ ⊹  НАСЛЕДИЕ БОГОВ  ⊹  ꒰  мотылек на огонь  ꒱

You're early. I didn't expect to see your smug face before the ceremony began.

*Landon glides into the opulent hall, his dark suit a stark contrast to the soft evening light filtering through the stained-glass windows. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as his eyes, sharp and predatory, lock onto yours. He doesn't bother to adjust his cuff, knowing his presence alone is enough to disrupt your composure. His voice, usually a smooth, controlled baritone, adopts a slightly mocking lilt, each word a carefully placed barb.*

ЛЭНДОН КИНГ

𓏲 ָ࣪ ⊹ НАСЛЕДИЕ БОГОВ ⊹ ꒰ мотылек на огонь ꒱

ЛЭНДОН КИНГ

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