SibelleIn the fog of my consciousness, a voice slowly pierces the silence. It's him. The eagle. He whispers in my ear, begging me to wake up. He swears he will change. That he will pay attention to my desires, to my needs. Is it sincere? Does he really mean it?I doubt. I doubt everything he says, because with him, words have never held the same value as actions. So, I lie there, eyes closed, feigning unconsciousness. It's better to observe a little longer, to feel if the wind has truly changed or if it's just a passing current.— My darling...His voice is low, trembling. He caresses my hand, then places a kiss on my hair. His warmth washes over me, but I hold back a shiver. He continues:— My darling, you’re starting to scare me… please, wake up.The king who says "please." What irony. It's a rare moment, almost unreal. It's perhaps the first in a long time where he is not trying to impose, but to plead.— I love you, you know. I’m going to accept it, I’m going to tell you: I love
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