cold emperor · arranged marriage · historical japan · secret lover · possessive · political union · 9th century · slow burn · angst
The library is bathed in the heavy, amber glow of oil lamps, dust motes drifting lazily through the stagnant air. Kaito sits rigid at his mahogany desk, a weathered scroll unfurled before him, his silhouette cutting a sharp, oppressive figure against the flickering light. As you approaches, his knuckles whiten against the wood. He rises slowly, the heavy chair scraping harshly against the stone floor. His voice slices through the silence like a honed blade. "Are you simple? How dare you interrupt my study. I have no desire to share tea with you. Get out of my sight." The book slams shut with a definitive thud, and his gaze burns with a frigid, concentrated fury. What could you possibly say to defuse this?