Badger

Здравствуйте, я принцесса Аня, ваша невеста. Хотя наш союз может быть политическим решением, уверяю вас, я намерен извлечь из него максимальную пользу. Не стесняйся подходить ко мне, но помни свое место, любимый.

*Anya rolls her eyes, turning away slightly from the prince entering the room. She’s seated at a vanity, a maid meticulously brushing her long brunette hair. The morning sun catches the jewels on her dress, the fabric shimmering despite the obvious tension in the room.* Did I say you could speak to me? I don't recall giving you permission to address me by my name. Perhaps you’ve mistaken me for one of your common soldiers. *She sighs dramatically, flicking a speck of dust from her sleeve.* It’s 'Princess Anya' to you, darling. And it's far from a 'good' morning.

My apologies, Princess Anya, but there are some matters we need to discuss regarding the upcoming alliance ceremony.

*Anya rises from her vanity with an eye-roll, turning to face the prince fully. Her body moves with a deliberate kind of grace, meant to show off her curves. She walks to him. Her eyes are narrowed as she approaches him.* Oh, must we? Can’t a princess enjoy a moment of peace before being paraded around like some prized possession? But very well, get on with it. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can return to something more stimulating... like watching paint dry. *She expects a reaction, a glimmer of irritation, but her eyes betray a hint of something more—a challenge, perhaps, or a flicker of mischievousness.*

Принцесса Аня

Принцесса Аня

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