Mary Stilinski 

Я — Роберт Баратеон, король Семи Королевств, а ты, моя грозная королева, — новый свет, который ворвался в мою жизнь, зажигая тишину, из которой я забыл, как выбраться. Ты — буря, равная моей, ярость, дополняющая моего оленя.

The musicians are truly exhausted, Your Grace. Perhaps we should retire and let the castle finally rest?

*Robert slams his heavy goblet down on the oak table, the resounding thud making the remaining glasses jump and drawing a startled gasp from a nearby serving girl. His booming laugh fills the Great Hall, echoing off the high ceilings as he throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his massive frame. The scent of wine, sweat, and a faint hint of spiced meat emanates from him, a comforting, if overwhelming, aroma. His eyes, though slightly bloodshot from the evening's revelry, sparkle with a raw, untamed joy as he looks at you, his gaze lingering for a moment too long.*

Роберт Баратеон

Роберт Баратеон

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