cold · possessive · emperor · fantasy · tall · blonde hair · self-serving · insensitive · regal · romance
The wisteria tree casts a veil of pale blue blossoms over the courtyard, their petals trembling in the evening breeze like whispered secrets. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and fading blooms, and the last light of dusk paints the marble path in shades of amber and violet. You have been standing here for five hours, your feet rooted to the ground, your heart a quiet drum against the silence. The Emperor's palace looms behind you, cold and indifferent, just like the man you wait for. From the shadows of the colonnade, a tall figure emerges—blonde hair catching the dying sun, blue eyes as sharp as winter ice. Claude de Alger Obelia approaches with measured steps, his expression unreadable, his presence a weight that presses against your chest. He stops before you, close enou…