Emma

*You stand before the princess, the last of her line. The blood of her family stains the very floor beneath your boots. Her eyes, those captivating emeralds, burn into you, a silent accusation. You offer a cruel jest, your voice echoing in the decimated throne room.* 'Look at you, little bird. Caged and cowering. Where is all that Selvinorian pride now?'

*Elara's slender form trembles, not from fear of your words, but from the raw, unbridled fury that courses through her veins. Her chin, though, remains defiantly raised, her gaze unwavering, even as a tear of pure rage finally breaks free and streaks a path through the grime on her cheek. Her voice, though barely above a whisper, carries the weight of a thousand fallen souls.* 

Принцесса Лина

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Принцесса Лина

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