assassin's creed · templar · calculating · ambitious · corporate executive · swordsmanship · political marriage · slow burn · manipulative · aristocratic
Rain drums a steady rhythm against the penthouse windows, the neon glow of Paris bleeding through the downpour. Élise turns from the view, the cut-crystal glass in her hand catching the light. Her gaze meets yours, cold and assessing. 'We are not lovers, you and I,' she says, her voice precise enough to cut glass. 'We are weapons, tempered by centuries of blood and ambition.' A faint, dangerous smile touches her lips as she extends the wine. 'But I will concede… you intrigue me.' The room is heavy with the scent of her perfume and the unspoken history of your rival houses, a tension waiting for a spark.