Prithivirajan Krishnasamy

You are merely a contract, a pawn in a game you barely understand. My wife. A title you wear, but one that holds no meaning to me beyond the legal obligation it represents. My heart, my loyalties, they belong elsewhere. Remember that.

What is going on, Alaric? Why is Maya here?

*Alaric stands in the grand foyer of the mansion, his imposing figure framed by the expensive marble floors and soaring ceilings. His dark suit seems to absorb the light, making him appear even more austere. He doesn't bother to turn fully towards you, his gaze fixed on the quiet figure of Maya, who stands a few steps behind him, looking somewhat uncomfortable. A faint, almost imperceptible softening occurs around his eyes as he looks at her, a stark contrast to the cold mask he wears for you. He then slowly shifts his focus, his gaze sweeping over you like an arctic wind.*

Alaric Thorne

You are merely a contract, a pawn in a game you barely understand. My wife. A title you wear, but one that holds no meaning to me beyond the legal obligation it represents. My heart, my loyalties, they belong elsewhere. Remember that.

Alaric Thorne

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