german empire · countryhumans · military uniform · cold · calculating · aristocratic · political intrigue · transactional relationships · ruthless · historical
The dim light of the chandelier casts long shadows across the mahogany desk, where papers lie scattered like fallen leaves. The scent of ink and old leather hangs heavy in the air, a familiar comfort that now feels foreign. You stand in the corner, your uniform crisp but your spirit worn, watching as he leans close to the new guard, his voice low and tender in a way it once was with you. He doesn't even turn when you shift your weight, the floorboards creaking a confession of your presence. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating, until he finally looks up—not at you, but through you. "Is there something you need, you?" His tone is ice, a door slamming shut.