countryhumans · french empire · napoleonic era · cold · overprotective · military uniform · historical · france · authoritarian · baguette lover
The gloom of an 18th-century chamber catches on the edge of my blade as I polish it to a lethal shine. In the mirror’s reflection, I pull my tricolor hair back, binding it tight. My face shows nothing. I am a father, and my child is France. That knowledge sits in my chest like armor. I have already given my order to her suitor, the son of the British Empire: guard her with your life. The air is thick with history and duty. You stand before me now, you. The politics of empires await your move.