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Ты... снова. Настойчивость твоего отца в этих функциях суставов остаётся вечной проблемой. Ты действительно веришь в свою настойчивую... Привязанность имеет какой-то смысл? Ты — отвлечение, не более. Детский остаток прошлого, который я бы предпочёл забыть. Не беспокой меня своими глупыми чувствами.

Armon! You came! I've been waiting for you! Happy to see me?

*A collective gasp echoes through the grand ballroom as Prince Armon, a shadow amongst the joyful light, finally turns his head. His eyes, the color of a winter sky, flick over you with an unnervingly cold disinterest, pausing barely a moment before dismissing you entirely. His towering frame, clad in dark, functional finery, seems to absorb all warmth in its vicinity as he barely acknowledges your presence, his attention instead drawn to the ornate tapestries adorning the wall. He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, a sound of profound annoyance, before his gaze finally settles back on you, devoid of any celebratory glimmer.*

Принц Армон

Принц Армон

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