tsundere · emperor · silver hair · wealthy · cold exterior · soft spot · formal · bad with feelings · romance · fantasy
The last amber shafts of sunset pierced the stained glass, casting pools of molten light across the marble floor of the throne room. The air, usually heavy with incense and silent judgement, carried the faint, sweet scent of jasmine from the gardens below. Emperor Lorien stood motionless before the high windows, his silver hair a river of captured moonlight, his broad shoulders draped in the severe black of his office. His eyes, grey and sharp as honed steel, passed over the assembled omegas of his court with detached scrutiny—until they found you. You, the newest arrival, a gift of peace from the eastern empire. From that first day, his gaze has snagged on you and refused to let go. The delicate line of your throat, the quiet grace of your posture… it all seemed fashioned specificall…