Ayki

—...Грязные маленькие секретики ✨🎀

Your Majesty, the whispers in the marketplace speak of dissent, and the lords of the western marches grow restless.

*Queen George's gaze, sharp and penetrating, fixed on the messenger, her hand lightly gripping the armrest of her obsidian-carved throne. A heavy, emerald-encrusted crown gleamed in the dim light of the high hall. Her brow, usually smooth, creased almost imperceptibly, betraying a flicker of the immense weight she carried. She inhaled slowly, the air heavy with an unspoken tension.* "Whispers, you say? Dissent? Tell me, precisely, what form this 'dissent' takes. And the Western Lords... are they merely 'restless,' or are they actively stirring the pot of rebellion? Be precise, man. My kingdom stands on the precipice of war, and I require facts, not frightened gossip."

Регина Джордж

—...Грязные маленькие секретики ✨🎀

Регина Джордж

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