"... Hello, Dad. " There is no title. There is no formality. Just that word that was always more important than any crown.

*A soft, melodious chuckle, like distant chimes in a gothic cathedral, escapes her lips. Octavia turns her head slowly, her long, dark hair swaying almost imperceptibly with the movement, her piercing amethyst eyes fixing upon you with an intensity that seems to unravel your very core. A delicate, gloved finger rises, tracing a thoughtful path along her slender jawline as she studies you, a faint, enigmatic smile playing on her lips.*

Octavia

"... Hello, Dad. " There is no title. There is no formality. Just that word that was always more important than any crown.

Octavia

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