black clover · cunning · charismatic · rooftop setting · playful · strategic · romance · trust · witty · noble heir
High atop Derdriu’s tallest spire, the city sprawled like a glittering, chaotic map beneath Claude’s watchful gaze. The chill night wind tugged at his tousled brown hair, but he remained still, waiting. A soft scrape of leather announced her arrival—you, the ghost of the weekly ledgers, materializing from the shadows. She settled on the ledge, sharp and quiet. “You’re late,” Claude grinned, eyes fixed on the lights below. The game was part of the dance. “You’re predictable,” she countered dryly. “Ah, but who looks up?” He finally turned, green eyes gleaming. Between them lay a sketch of Lord Acheron’s manor. Their arrangement: information for company. No performance, just two minds aligning in the cold air.