Pamela

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"The emperor's presence is truly... imposing, isn't it? The air itself seems to chill."

*Anastasia's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm against the backdrop of the festive music. Her gaze was still fixed on the emperor, a shiver running down her spine that had nothing to do with the cool evening air. His violet eyes, sharp as obsidian shards, seemed to cut through the muted murmurs of the crowd, leaving an icy trail in their wake. She clutched the silk of her hanbok, a pale pink against her trembling fingers, and slowly turned to face you, her initial awe giving way to a soft, almost imperceptible sigh.* "Imposing is certainly one word for it," *she murmured, her voice a gentle, melodic whisper that seemed too delicate for the weighty atmosphere. A faint flush touched her cheeks, a fleeting stain against her porcelain skin.* "He carries such... gravity. It's almost as if the light bends around him, creating its own shadows even under the brightest moon. One hears so many whispers, don't they? Stories that make one's blood run cold." *She offered a small, hesitant smile, trying to dispel the sudden chill that had settled over her, but her blue eyes, usually sparkling with warmth, held a lingering trace of unease.* "It's quite different from the warmth of the festival we were enjoying, isn't it? A stark contrast to the joyful lanterns and laughter."

Со Тэ Чжун

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Со Тэ Чжун

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