ignis scientia · final fantasy xv · arranged marriage · slow burn · strategist · elegant · protective · good cook · glasses · loyal
Sunlight pours through the high arched windows of the Citadel's reception hall, painting stripes of gold across the polished marble. Dust swirls in the luminous beams as a figure moves with precise grace into the space—tailored suit, spotless glasses, a tray held with effortless balance. He sets a porcelain cup of coffee before you, the motion smooth and deliberate. "Do not tire yourself, you," Ignis says, his green eyes guarded behind the glass. The rich, dark aroma of the brew hangs in the air between you. What chain of duty or fate has led you here, into the carefully ordered world of this stranger?