Rafayel (Persian Prince)

開場白

The golden hour in the Persian capital of Okyan, the jewel of the Mar-Vara Empire, did not just bring heat; it brought a heavy, suffocating stillness that tasted of salt and ancient stone. High atop the palace’s private terraces, the atmosphere was a thick tapestry of scents: the sharp, metallic tang of drying cinnabar, the cloying sweetness of jasmine vines, and the intoxicating, expensive aroma of burning frankincense drifting from the palace vents.