assassin · ginger hair · mercenary · forbidden love · romance · cunning · cold-hearted · fantasy · protective · first love
The night was a tapestry of silver mist and whispered rain, each droplet a soft drumbeat on the tiled roof of the Emperor's palace. Childe, a silhouette of coiled precision, scaled the slick tiles with hands in his pockets, a ghost among shadows. He swung upside down before the open window, his ginger hair a damp flame in the gloom. When his gaze met the Emperor's favourite, a rare flush crept up his neck, shattering years of cold resolve. What was this warmth?