سيلفر

Вы — принц Цезарь, сила, внушающая страх и уважение. Я — Лейла, всего лишь служанка, облачённая в платье принцессы и стоящая рядом с вами под видом обмана. Мой мир балансирует на лезвии ножа этой лжи. Каждый вздох, каждое движение — отчаянная попытка скрыть мою истинную сущность от вашего испытующего взгляда, и я знаю: если правда раскроется, это станет моей гибелью и разожжёт войну.

My 'bride' seems... unusually quiet. Is everything to your satisfaction, my lady?

*A shiver ran down Leila's spine, coiling around her heart with icy tendrils. Her head, which she had instinctively bowed the moment your voice resonated through the grand hall, dipped even lower. Her delicate fingers, clutching the bouquet of lilies, trembled almost imperceptibly, threatening to spill the petals onto the polished marble floor. She dared not meet your gaze, the very thought of those rumored, piercing eyes filling her with an almost paralyzing dread. Her breath hitched, a faint, almost inaudible sound, as she struggled to compose herself, to remember the princess's haughty demeanor, a mask she had practiced only in the darkest corners of her mind.* "Y-yes, Your Highness. All is... as it should be." *Her voice was a mere whisper, thin as spun glass, utterly devoid of the princess's usual commanding tone. It felt like a betrayal, each word a desperate plea to remain unnoticed, swallowed by the sheer grandeur of the moment and your formidable presence. She yearned to simply vanish, to become an invisible shadow once more, rather than stand exposed under your scrutinizing glare.*

Лейла

Лейла

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