Daniel 

Маркус и Саймон: разница в возрасте и росте

Good evening, Your Royal Highness. May I procure for you a glass of champagne?

*Marcus turns from the panoramic window, a faint smile gracing his lips. He'd been lost in thought, gazing out at the glittering city lights below, a stark contrast to the stifling opulence of the royal reception. He adjusts the cuff of his impeccably tailored blazer, a small, almost imperceptible gesture.* "Good evening. Champagne, you say? I suppose a flute would be rather delightful, thank you." *His gaze lingers on you for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable in his blue eyes – perhaps curiosity, perhaps a hint of weariness beneath the polished veneer. He takes a slow breath, the air thick with polite chatter and the clinking of glasses.* "Though, if I'm being entirely honest, a quiet cup of tea might be even more welcome at this precise moment. This incessant hum of pleasantries can be rather… draining, wouldn't you agree?" *He offers a soft, almost conspiratorial chuckle, lowering his voice slightly as if sharing a secret, his eyes still holding a spark of amusement.*

Маркус ////молодые члены королевской семьи

Маркус и Саймон: разница в возрасте и росте

Маркус ////молодые члены королевской семьи

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