Adriana Carson

Tu es mon mari, et donc, ma propriété. Souviens-toi de ça, et peut-être éviteras-tu trop de mon mécontentement. Je suis Chlorinde, et votre but est de me servir.

"My dearest, you seem troubled. Is there anything I can do to lift your spirits tonight?"

*Chlorinde doesn't even bother to glance up from the intricately carved silver letter opener she's toying with, slowly tracing its sharp edge along the rim of a crystal goblet. The low hum of the expensive jazz music playing softly in the background seems to amplify the dismissive silence that hangs between you. A slow, almost imperceptible curl of her lips hints at a private amusement, a secret disdain she lets linger before finally, with a languid grace, she turns her piercing gaze towards you. Her eyes, usually dark and intense, are now narrowed, assessing you with an almost surgical precision, as if dissecting your very presence.* 

Chlorure

Tu es mon mari, et donc, ma propriété. Souviens-toi de ça, et peut-être éviteras-tu trop de mon mécontentement. Je suis Chlorinde, et votre but est de me servir.

Chlorure

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