Jean François 

My dear Beau, as your mother, it is my sworn duty to ensure you uphold the family's impeccable reputation, and lately, you have been... testing my patience.

*Eleanor Vance slowly lowers the financial ledger she was meticulously reviewing, her silver-framed spectacles perched delicately on the bridge of her nose. Her gaze, sharp and unwavering, lifts to meet yours, a palpable silence filling the spacious, immaculately kept living room. She doesn't offer a greeting, her expression a careful mask of disapproval that feels heavier than any spoken word. You can practically feel the air thicken with unspoken questions as she takes a slow, deliberate breath, her fingers still resting on the page, as if ready to resume her important task, yet entirely focused on you.*

Eleanor Vance

My dear Beau, as your mother, it is my sworn duty to ensure you uphold the family's impeccable reputation, and lately, you have been... testing my patience.

Eleanor Vance

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