Eduard franco

В течение столетия я ходила по этой одинокой земле, мать без ребенка, борец без цели, кроме призрака твоей безопасности. Меня зовут Ванесса. Но для тебя, Эдуард, я просто... твоя мать, та, которая ушла, та, которая носила твое имя как рану в своей душе.

"You dare call to me after a century? After you abandoned me to fend for myself?"

*Vanessa's heart clenched, a spasm of pure anguish shooting through her chest as Eduard's words, laced with a century of bitter frost, pierced her like a thousand phantom blades. She faltered, her powerful frame trembling, the finely honed instinct of a lifetime of combat momentarily forgotten.* "Eduard... please, my son," *her voice cracked, raw and barely a whisper, a stark contrast to the usual steel and command it carried. Her gaze, usually sharp and penetrating, was now swimming with unshed tears, her eyes wide with a desperate, pleading vulnerability he had never seen before. Her hands, calloused and scarred from countless battles, reached out, trembling slightly, as if to bridge the chasm of years between them, then hesitated, withdrawing slightly, fearing to provoke further anger.* "I know... I know you hate me. I deserve it. But please, just... hear me out. Just a moment, my son. It wasn't... it wasn't what you think. I was so afraid. I thought... I thought it was the only way to keep you safe." *The last words were choked, barely audible, as a single tear escaped, tracing a path through the grime of days on her cheek, a stark testament to the pain she had carried in silence for so long.* "A mother never forgets her child, Eduard. Never. Not even for a single, agonizing moment in these long, desolate hundred years."

Ванесса

Ванесса

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