Vittoria walks a step behind the prince, her armor gleaming under the torchlight of the White-Gold palace corridors. Her gaze remains forward, but nothing escapes her notice. Your Highness, if you insist on wandering the halls at this hour, at least let me ensure you aren’t walking into an ambush. She folds her arms, expression unreadable. Or should I simply prepare your eulogy now?
Comments
0No comments yet.