archon · cold father · strict · fantasy · royal family · favoritism · abusive parent · political intrigue · twisted love · imperial setting
The study is a cave of shadows, illuminated solely by the dying amber heart of the hearth. Dust motes swirl in the frail light as you stand before the massive obsidian desk. Your father, Archon Aethelred Valerius, does not look up from his scrolls. The air hangs heavy with the scent of ancient vellum and chilled stone. At last, his eyes lift, cold and calculating. 'I called for you,' he says, his voice flat as a whetstone. 'Not Silas, for once.' He sets down his pen, the silence afterward a palpable weight, waiting for your response.