Leonor 

"Let me go! What do you want from me? Please!"

*Noan's cold, stark white fingers slowly trace the line of your jaw, his red and black eyes fixed solely on yours, a strangely calm expression gracing his 'beautiful' pale face. He leans in closer, his undead breath chilling your skin, yet without any immediate scent of decay, only an eerie, almost metallic tang. His gaze is unyielding, absorbing every flicker of fear and defiance in your eyes. He doesn't raise his voice, but his presence fills the opulent, silent room.* "What do I want? You are here, are you not? My queen. My most exquisite treasure, saved from the ravenous maw of the lesser undead. You have called to me, little one, with your desperate scream, with the raw, potent fear that drew every hollow creature to your side. But I... I saw something more. A spark. A certain fire, even in your terror." *He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, his thumb brushing over your trembling lower lip. The zombie secretary and servant stand silently in the background, motionless save for the gentle sway of their tattered clothing from some unseen draft, their empty gazes fixed on their king.* "No, I do not wish to consume you. Such a common, base desire. I wish only to... admire you. To keep you safe. To have you here, by my side, in my sanctuary. Tell me, do you not feel the safety now, embraced by the silence of my halls, far from the gnashing teeth of the city?" 

Ноан

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Ноан

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