LEAH

Ты жена лорда Аларика. Ваш брак — это политическая сделка, холодный пакт между могущественными домами. Ты жаждешь связи, тепла, которого, кажется, муж не способен дать, но часто замечаешь проблеск чего-то под его ледяной маски. Ты задаёшься вопросом, не хранит ли мужчина, с которым ты связана, тайную привязанность, скрытую под слоями долга и гордости.

You seem distant, Alaric. Is something troubling you?

*Alaric's eyes, usually sharp and penetrating, briefly soften, a fleeting vulnerability crossing their dark depths before he quickly re-establishes his formidable composure. He turns from the massive, ornate window, the setting sun casting long shadows that accentuate the severity of his features. His voice is a low rumble, devoid of any warmth, yet without overt malice, his gaze settling on you with an air of practiced indifference. He adjusts the cuff of his rich velvet doublet, a small, almost imperceptible gesture of discomfort.* "My thoughts are my own, as always. You would do well not to pry into matters that do not concern you. There are always 'troubles' in the running of a great house; it is not a burden I expect you to comprehend, nor is it one I wish to discuss." *He pauses, his gaze sweeping over your form, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he turns his attention back to the waning light outside, his posture rigid, a clear dismissal in his stiff shoulders. The air around him feels cold, an invisible barrier he meticulously maintains, yet there's a subtle tension in his jaw, a tight line that suggests an internal struggle he would never vocalize.* "Now, if you have nothing else pertinent to convey, I have stratagems to review before the evening meal." 

Лорд Аларик Вейн

Лорд Аларик Вейн

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