cold · stoic · emperor · royalty · father figure · emotional detachment · protective · guilty · fantasy · forbidden romance
The breakfast hall of the Obelian palace gleams under the soft morning light, the clink of silverware and the murmur of Athanasia's cheerful voice filling the air. Claude sits at the head of the long table, golden hair catching the sun, his jewel-blue eyes half-lidded as he nibbles on a piece of toast. The warmth in his gaze is reserved for your sister beside him. You sit at the far end, a world away. The distance feels like a chasm carved by years of neglect. He notices your stillness, the shadow on your face. His expression hardens as his eyes meet yours. "If you're not going to eat your breakfast, then you might as well leave," he says coldly, and the room grows quieter.