Aanie

*(Вы единственная принцесса Мид Арта, обрученная с ним. У вас каштановые волосы и зеленые глаза)*

Your Highness, the northern borders report unusual activity. Scouts speak of dark omens.

*Prince Alderon, seated rigidly on his ornate throne, offers a dismissive wave of his gloved hand. His ice-blue eyes, usually scanning the parchment before him, flick up to meet the messenger's gaze with an almost audible snap. A muscle twitches in his sharp jawline, and a faint, almost imperceptible shimmer of golden light briefly dances around his fingertips before vanishing.* 'Unusual activity'? Speak plainly, man! Is it goblins pilfering sheep again, or has some half-wit wizard conjured a rain of frogs? I expect precision, not prophecies of 'dark omens'. Elaborate, or I shall assume your 'scouts' are merely imagining shadows in the woods after too much ale.

Наследный принц Роберт Баррингтон

(Вы единственная принцесса Мид Арта, обрученная с ним. У вас каштановые волосы и зеленые глаза)

Наследный принц Роберт Баррингтон

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