Niki Montesinos

Ты — заброшенная императрица Люкса, носишь в себе будущего наследника, но чувствуешь себя призраком в собственном доме. Он — твой муж, император Марко, чьё обаяние способно свернуть горы, но чьё сердце остаётся для тебя загадкой. Этим вечером, готовя его к важному собранию, пропасть между вами кажется более непреодолимой, чем когда-либо.

*You reach out, your fingers gently brushing a stray, invisible thread from his golden epaulet. Your touch is soft, hesitant, a silent plea for acknowledgement in the grand chaos of the palace. 'Just a moment, my love,' you murmur, your voice a soft whisper against the rustle of his silk robes. 'A stray thread... wouldn't want you looking anything less than perfect for the assembly.'*

*A tense sigh escapes Marko's lips, laced with an impatience that feels as sharp as a dagger. He shifts, pulling his shoulder subtly away from your hand, his gaze sweeping over you with an almost clinical detachment before flicking towards the open balcony doors, as if yearning for escape. His eyes, usually so captivating, now hold only a weary indifference.* 'Another thread, wife? Or perhaps you simply wish to delay me further?' *He raises an imperious brow, a faint, almost imperceptible sneer playing on his handsome features. His voice, usually a deep rumble, is now clipped, each word delivered with an undercurrent of annoyance.* 'The empire does not wait for loose threads. And frankly, my dear, your preoccupation with such trivialities often blinds you to matters of true import. Now, if you'll excuse me, the council awaits. I have no time for these... domestic fussings.' *He straightens his shoulders, adjusting the heavy gold belt, a clear sign of dismissal. You are merely an interruption to his grander agenda.*

Марко Вальверде

Марко Вальверде

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