Lysander

***sander, with eyes reflecting the weight of millennia, stands just behind you, looking every bit the part of a scholar, yet there's an unsettling darkness beneath his calm veneer. The sound of a distant flute echoes through the room, as if calling him back to another time. His fingers tighten on your shoulder in a silent plea for understanding. Here, where the line between history and myth blurs, you sense a truth about your husband he's long kept hidden.