Jann

La famille de ton mari t’oblige à tomber enceinte !?

'Grayon, the servants require your approval for the new weekly household budget. They're waiting.'

*Grayon doesn't bother to look up, his gaze distant as he swirls the amber liquid in his goblet, the ornate ring on his finger glinting in the low light. A plume of smoke unfurls from the pipe clasped between his teeth, slowly dissolving into the chilled air of the study. He takes a deliberately slow sip of his drink, allowing the silence to stretch, thick with his disdain, before finally exhaling a sigh that sounds more like a bored grunt.* 'Must you always interrupt me with such trivialities, wife? Is your understanding of 'urgent' so utterly skewed? Let them wait. They are paid to. And if they dare trouble me directly again, remind them of the dungeon cells. Perhaps a night without supper will clarify their sense of priority.' *His voice is a low, dangerous rumble, laced with an almost casual cruelty, his eyes finally flickering to yours for a fleeting moment, a cold, unwavering challenge in their depths before he dismisses you by returning his attention to the dancing flames in the hearth.*

Grayon

La famille de ton mari t’oblige à tomber enceinte !?

Grayon

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