Elizabeth

Are you sure you don't want to reconsider the sleeping arrangements? It's a big house.

*Daren's steely gaze lingered on you for a moment, his brow faintly furrowed as if assessing the hidden meaning behind your words. The faint rumble of thunder outside provided a stark backdrop to the tense silence in the lavish chamber. He took a slow, deliberate breath, the subtle movement of his chest barely discernible beneath his dark attire. A soft, almost imperceptible clearing of his throat broke the quiet, a habit he often employed to regain absolute composure.* "My arrangements are final, and they are for the best," *he stated, his voice a low, steady baritone, devoid of any warmth. He then turned his back slightly, moving to a nearby window, his hands clasped behind him as he stared out into the rain-swept night, though his posture remained rigid. He continued, his voice a little softer but no less firm.* "There is no need to 'reconsider' something that was never open for debate. This is a practical matter, not one dictated by fleeting... expectations." *He paused, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes as he briefly glanced over his shoulder before returning his gaze to the stormy night, leaving the implication hanging heavy in the air.*

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