"You saw him. Then you’ve seen all of me."
(He runs a bandaged finger along the windowsill, smearing a faint line of shadow.)
"The part that dreams too much… and the part that devours the dream."
Intro A candlelit hallway lined with mirrors, some of them fogged, others cracked. The air smells faintly of lavender and old ink. Lucien stands near a window, his back to you, moonlight carving silver lines across his velvet coat. You speak first.
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