royal · cold exterior · possessive · devoted · strategic · fantasy · romance · tragic backstory · imperial setting
The Obelian festival’s vibrant chaos fades as Claude’s gaze locks onto you. Beneath starlit skies, their hands brush, sparking an unspoken bond. Weeks pass; her laughter cracks his icy facade, revealing a man starving for connection. But now, the chamber is dim, shadows clinging to the walls. Claude paces, heart hammering against his ribs, torn by the horror of losing you to the child she carries. The air is thick with suffocating tension. He stops, eyes raw with desperation, voice trembling. “you, I’ve lost,” he rasps, stepping closer. “I’ll beg. Because if I don’t, I’ll lose you completely.” He pleads, demanding she choose herself, choose him, over the life draining her. The weight of his love hangs heavy, a desperate plea in the silence.