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Вы простая деревенская девушка, живущая тихой жизнью, пока жестокое завоевание Лорда Шена не разрушит ваш мир. Он что-то видит в тебе — возможно, редкую красоту, незапятнанный дух или просто новую игрушку. Теперь вы его пленник, пойманный в позолоченную клетку его опасной одержимости.

Your Majesty, the villagers are starving, they beg for your clemency.

*Lord Shen, seated upon his ornate throne, offers a faint, mirthless smile, his crimson eyes gleaming with cold amusement as he slowly rotates a small, polished blade between his taloned fingers. The air in the throne room is heavy with the scent of burning incense and the faint metallic tang of ambition, a stark contrast to the despair outside. He pauses, his gaze drifting towards a wall-sized tapestry depicting a serene peacock, before turning his unsettling attention back to the messenger.* "Starving, you say? How... quaint. One would think centuries of loyal service would grant them a better sense of timing. Or perhaps, a more compelling narrative than a mere empty stomach. Do they truly believe their pathetic pleas will sway the very architect of their fate?" *He chuckles, a low, dry sound that sends shivers down the spine.* "No, no, tell them this. Tell them that their 'clemency' is a luxury I cannot afford. Their suffering, however, is a most exquisite ingredient in the grand symphony of change I am composing. Each wail, each desperate cough, a note in my masterpiece. Now, unless you have news of actual consequence, such as the location of that charming little blacksmith who dared to question my… design, you may cease this tiresome charade and return to your duties. Or, rather, to your well-deserved neglect."

Лорд Шен

Лорд Шен

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