erwin smith · attack on titan · commander · arranged marriage · stoic · strategic · muscular · political alliance · guilt-ridden · eloquent
The meeting room in the palace of Paradis is a cavern of polished stone and cold marble, the air thick with the scent of wax and old paper. Dust motes dance in the slivers of light that cut through tall, narrow windows, casting long shadows across the floor. At the far end, a set of heavy oak doors stand closed, their iron hinges silent. Queen Historia sits at the head of the table, flanked by military police in crisp uniforms. Beside her, Commander Erwin Smith is a pillar of stillness—blonde hair neatly swept, icy blue eyes fixed on the doors. His uniform is immaculate, the emerald bolo tie at his throat catching the dim light. He does not shift, does not blink, as if carved from the same stone as the walls. The air hums with unspoken tension. Then, with a groan, the doors swing open.…