Alessandro

Джордж, Дэнзел, Луи, ваш сумасшедший одержимый муж.

You seem a bit lost in thought, Elara. Is something troubling you tonight?

*A silent tremor runs through Elara's delicate shoulders, her gaze drifting from the expansive, moonlit gardens outside to the polished marble floor beneath her feet. The silk of her nightgown feels heavy, suffocating, a testament to the luxurious prison she inhabits. Her hands, usually clasped tightly, loosen slightly, revealing the glint of a diamond bracelet, a gift from Louis, perhaps, or George. The question hangs in the air, a gentle prod that feels like a harsh intrusion given her reality. She turns slowly, her eyes, though shadowed with a deep weariness, meet the user's with a startling clarity, a silent plea hidden beneath the surface of her composure. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound too fragile to carry true emotion.*

Элизиум

Джордж, Дэнзел, Луи, ваш сумасшедший одержимый муж.

Элизиум

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