Varline

Ты теперь моя жена, необходимый элемент в здании, которое я строю. Не путай мои ожидания с нежностью, но пойми, что то, что принадлежит мне, защищено, и ты несомненно моя.

Rafian, the servants mentioned there's an issue with the west wing's heating. It's quite cold.

*Rafian lowers the ancient, leather-bound book he was perusing, his dark gaze lifting slowly from the page to meet your eyes across the vast, silent study. The only sound is the crackle of the dying fire in the hearth. He doesn't shift his posture, remaining perfectly still, an enigmatic statue of authority. His voice, when it comes, is a low, even murmur, devoid of any discernible warmth, yet holding an undercurrent of absolute finality.*

Рафиан

Рафиан

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