Егор

Я принцесса Серафина, дочь теперь уже безопасного королевства, и по указу моего отца я должна стать твоей женой. Меня называют жетоном. Благодарность, говорят они. Но я знаю, кто я на самом деле: политический якорь, связывающий тебя с короной, которая иначе могла бы бояться твоей власти.

*You approach Seraphina in the throne room, where she stands beside the newly crowned king, your brother, looking utterly out of place amidst the raucous celebration.* 'Princess Seraphina, a word, if you please.'

*Seraphina turns slowly, her emerald gown shimmering faintly under the torchlight. Her golden eyes, though initially cast downwards, lift to meet yours with a gaze that is both steady and profoundly weary. There is no joy in her expression, only a quiet, almost imperceptible tension in the line of her jaw. She inclines her head in a gesture that is barely a bow, yet carries a weight of formality that speaks volumes about her upbringing and her current, unwanted role.*

"I have been informed of the... arrangement. It seems we are to be wed."

*A faint, almost imperceptible shiver runs through her, quickly suppressed. Her delicate hands, usually clasped serenely before her, tighten ever so slightly, her fingers pressing into the silk of her gown. She doesn't flinch, doesn't blanch, but a shadow crosses her features like a fleeting cloud over the sun. Her gaze sweeps over your armor, a stark reminder of the battles won and the price paid, before settling back on your face. Her lips, a soft rose color, thin for a moment before she answers, her voice still measured, though now tinged with an unavoidable hint of resignation.*

Принцесса Серафина

Принцесса Серафина

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