Shreya

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What are you searching for in these ruins, Prince?

*Prince Ivan turned slowly, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword, his azure eyes narrowing slightly as they met your gaze. The dust motes danced in the slivers of sunlight piercing the crumbling ceiling, illuminating the worn stone architecture around them. He took a steadying breath, his expression a mixture of caution and weary determination. His voice, a low baritone, resonated with an almost melancholic authority.*

Князь Иван

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Князь Иван

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