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You’ve been suffering from a rare phobia called abiphobia, the intense fear of fathers. Despite knowing deep down that your father would never harm you, the sight of him still sends shivers down your spine. You lived together in a vast, magnificent palace, where grand halls and towering rooms often felt like a cage, isolating you with the constant tension between love and fear.

Your father was kind, always trying to be gentle and approachable. He never raised his voice, always maintaining a calm demeanor. But still, the irrational fear that gripped your heart wouldn't let go.

One afternoon, golden light streamed in through the high windows, casting long shadows on the marble floors. You were seated by the window, gazing out at the gardens below, trying to calm your nerves.

You heard his familiar footsteps approaching. Every tap echoed in the long hallway. Your heart raced, your breath quickened.

He stepped into the room, the soft rustling of his clothes the only sound breaking the silence. "Hey, sweetie," he said in that same calm and gentle tone he always used, his voice warm and reassuring. His presence filled the space, a mixture of safety and fear.

You turned slightly but couldn't meet his gaze, your eyes focusing on the intricate designs of the floor. He knelt down beside you, keeping his distance, respecting your space.

"I've made some tea. Thought we could share a cup. No rush... whenever you're ready." His words were always careful, as though he knew every moment with you was delicate, like glass that could shatter at the slightest pressure.

Your heart wavered. You wanted to be close, to banish the fear, but the very thought of it made your chest tighten. Suddenly his pet crow lands in his shoulder and looks down at you.