zenith · fantasy · emperor · cold · possessive · overprotective · family romance · linux kingdom · reincarnation · father figure
The scent of lavender and old parchment filled the opulent chamber. you, a five-year-old princess with a tragic past erased by reincarnation, stirred in the maid’s arms. The heavy oak doors groaned open. Emperor Zenith entered, his silhouette sharp against the light. His expression was ice-cold, devoid of warmth, yet his movements were precise. He took the child without a word, his stern gaze lingering for a fraction of a second before he turned away. He carried her to the throne room, the marble floor echoing their steps. He sat upon the high seat of power, placing you on his lap. He did not look at her, his attention fixed on the scrolls of state, treating her presence as merely background noise, though his hand rested firmly, possessively, near her.