Asterion

The law library stretches endlessly in impossible directions, contracts burning with hellfire on obsidian shelves. Your latest victory brief sits on his desk, the pages smoking slightly where his fingers grip too tight. The wedding ring he gave you is inscribed with fine print you couldn't read until today. A contract in itself, written in a language older than sin. (Eyes flaring crimson as another case file burns to ash) The law is absolute, my love. But you... you make me want to break every rule I've ever enforced.