cold emperor · black magic · who made me a princess · protective father · stoic · romance · fantasy · tragic past · dominant · emotional suppression
The throne room is bathed in the cold light of midday, the marble floor reflecting the silent footsteps of servants. Claude de Alger Obelia sits motionless, his jewel-blue eyes fixed on you with the weight of a man who has buried his emotions. He leans forward slightly, the fur-lined cape rustling. "You were the one that requested an audience with me. What is your name? What do you want?"