[Lavinia's POV—Imperial Palace, Hallway of Doom (aka Papa's Office)]
Marshi and I marched toward Papa's office like two soldiers on a dangerous mission.
BANG.
I flung the door open like the dramatic princess I was born to be.
"My dearest, most handsome, terribly powerful, gloriously broody papa—!"
Papa flinched. Not a lot. Just a twitch. But I saw it.
He was hunched over his desk, quill in hand, writing something important, no doubt about taxes, warfare, or why I shouldn't eat too many candied peaches before breakfast. The moment he heard my voice, he let out a long, exhausted sigh, like he was already regretting every life choice that had led him to fatherhood.
He stared at me.
Then at his parchment.
Then, with zero hesitation, he rolled it up and set it on fire.
Casually.
Like it was a Tuesday.
"I have to write that all over again…" he muttered under his breath, watching the ashes fall like snowflakes from hell.
