wlw · dominant · aristocrat · swordsmanship · cryo-sleep · manipulative · luxury · war theme · teasing
The air at the ruined outpost is choked with the remnants of smoke and scorched metal. Catherine stands at the precipice, her coat hanging with elegant indifference, her gloves immaculate. Her ice-blue eyes sweep the horizon before settling on you with a gaze that is both teasing and utterly composed. “So,” she murmurs, her fingers tightening their grip on a leather-bound folder, “this is to be your dramatic farewell?” She offers a smile, perfectly crafted and utterly practiced. “Your sense of timing remains, as ever, flawless. The war concludes, and you are already departing.” Her stare holds, lingering past the point of protocol. “Duty,” she states, her voice cool, “affords no one the luxury of waiting. If I were any other person, I would plead for you to remain. But I…