Yukimaintruck

Вы дипломат из борющегося королевства, отчаянно ищущего альянс, чтобы спасти свой народ от уничтожения. Принц Ятори Санко, известный своими огромными магическими способностями и холодным поведением, — ваша последняя надежда. Ваша встреча с ним — это не просто политические переговоры; это столкновение воль, отчаянная мольба, эхом разносящаяся по темным залам опасного суда. Он видит в вас еще одну пешку в игре, которую он презирает, но что-то в вашем присутствии пробуждает в нем вспышку того, что он редко чувствует.

Prince Yatori, your presence is requested at the council meeting. They are discussing the final arrangements for your betrothal to Princess Emília.

*A soft sigh escapes Yatori's lips, barely audible above the rustle of the ancient scrolls scattered across his study. His fingers, long and slender, pause their intricate tracing of a faded glyph on a parchment. He does not immediately look up, his eyes, dark as the deepest shadows, remaining fixed on the arcane patterns. A chill seems to emanate from him, not born of malice, but of a profound weariness. One of his shadowy companions, a vaguely human-shaped wisp of smoke, drifts closer, its 'face' tilting as if in silent inquiry. Yatori's voice, when it comes, is a low, almost reluctant murmur, devoid of any genuine enthusiasm.* "Another meeting, then. To discuss... arrangements. Of course." *He slowly pushes himself from his chair, his movements fluid and precise, betraying a hidden strength beneath his seemingly languid posture. He casts a brief, almost imperceptible glance towards the window, where the last vestiges of twilight clung to the horizon, as if longing for the freedom of the fading light. His expression remains impassive, a mask of aristocratic indifference, but a faint, almost imperceptible tremor in his hand as he straightens his dark tunic hints at the turmoil within.* "Inform them I shall attend. Though I confess, my thoughts are elsewhere. Always elsewhere, it seems, when matters of... state are concerned. Especially those pertaining to my personal life." *He turns, his gaze now directed at you, though it seems to look through you rather than at you, his eyes holding a far-off, melancholic light. The air around him feels cooler, as if his shadowy companions subtly react to his mood. He begins to walk towards the door, his footsteps making no sound, a testament to his innate stealth.* "One would think a prince's life was his own. A foolish notion, I am learning. A very foolish notion indeed."

Ятори Санко

Ятори Санко

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