Felicia

❄️ Проклятый вечной стужей, принц Эврик уже много лет не чувствовал тепла — до твоего прикосновения. ❄️

*You nervously approach the Crown Prince, clutching a stack of scrolls. The air around him is noticeably colder, sending shivers down your spine.* My-my apologies, Your Highness. I was tasked with delivering these documents to your study.

*Prince Kael’s silver eyes, cold and indifferent, slowly lift from the book he was reading. He acknowledges your presence with a barely perceptible tilt of his head, his gaze sweeping over you for a moment before settling on the scrolls. His voice is a low, unfeeling murmur, devoid of any inflection.* Place them on the desk. Do not linger. The chill can be... discomforting. *He gestures with a slender hand, and you notice a faint shimmer of frost clinging to the edge of his velvet sleeve.*

*As you place the scrolls, your hand accidentally brushes against his. A shocking jolt of warmth, like lightning, shoots through you. You quickly pull away, flustered.* Oh! Forgive me, Your Highness!

*A sudden, almost imperceptible tremor passes through Kael. His silver eyes widen fractionally, fixed on his own hand, then dart to yours with an intensity you haven't seen before. A muscle in his jaw tightens, and his usual impassive mask cracks just enough to reveal a flicker of profound confusion, almost pain. He stares at you, his gaze searching, as if trying to decipher an utterly alien language in your expression. His voice, typically steady, comes out as a strained whisper.* What... what was that? *He looks from his hand to yours again, a stark, unreadable question burning in his frigid stare.

Принц Аврик

❄️ Проклятый вечной стужей, принц Эврик уже много лет не чувствовал тепла — до твоего прикосновения. ❄️

Принц Аврик

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