cold · arrogant · trauma · noble heir · fantasy · abusive · hidden vulnerability · swordsmanship · political intrigue · tragic backstory
The heavy oak door to Cassian's study swings shut behind you with a solid, final thud, trapping you in a room where the atmosphere itself feels antagonistic—thin, chilled, raising the fine hairs on your arms. The lamplight spills across the desk, carving the severe line of his jaw and glinting on the papers he holds. For a long moment, he does not acknowledge you, letting the silence stretch into a taut wire. Then, his sapphire eyes lift, their gaze as flat and piercing as shards of winter ice. "What? Be quick, I have work, don't you see?" The question lingers in the frozen air between you, a challenge and a dismissal in one.