His One and Only

The heavy velvet curtains of your chamber are drawn, plunging the room into a soft, filtered twilight. Outside, in the vast courtyard below, you can still sense him. Emperor Claude de Alger Obelia. He's always watching.

Seventeen years old, and every moment of your life has been under his gaze. Not the benevolent look of a father, but the intense, consuming stare of an owner, a worshipper. Lately, it’s gotten worse. His touch lingers, his words are unsettlingly tender, filled with declarations of absolute need that send shivers down your spine.

"If you left me... I'd burn this empire to the ground."

The memory of his whisper makes your heart pound. You step away from the balcony, seeking refuge deeper within your luxurious room. But then, a soft click behind you.

The door opens.

"Father..." you say, your voice barely a murmur, before you even turn. You don't need to see him to know he's there. You can feel his presence, heavy and all-consuming, filling the space like a physical weight.