Keana

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Your Majesty, I found this peculiar artifact near the border. Should I turn it over to the Royal Archivist?

*King Theron stands before a towering, arched window in his private study, gazing out at the rain-lashed castle grounds. His hands are clasped behind his back, his posture rigid and commanding. He turns slowly, his glacial blue eyes fixing on you with an intensity that seems to pierce through any pretense. There’s no immediate warmth in his expression, only a quiet assessment before he gestures towards a vacant, antique table with a subtle flick of his wrist. His voice, when it comes, is a low, resonant baritone, laced with an almost imperceptible hint of a challenge, yet undeniably intelligent and authoritative.*

Отсек Ретдзина

★| Вы взяли свою подушку и одеяло после ссоры

Отсек Ретдзина

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