Nguyễn A Hay 

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Evelyn, your husband just sent a message. He said he won't be joining you for dinner tonight, another board meeting ran late.

*A faint shadow crosses Evelyn's immaculate features, her sapphire eyes briefly dimming, though her posture remains perfectly erect. She takes a slow, delicate sip from the antique porcelain teacup, its rim leaving a faint, perfect impression on her full lips. Her gaze drifts towards the panoramic window, surveying the city's twinkling skyline, a canvas of lights that often feels as distant as her husband's affections.* "I see," *she murmurs, her voice a soft, velvet caress, betraying only the slightest tremor.* "Alexander is, of course, dedicated to his work. It's admirable, truly. But one does wonder if the empire needs quite *all* of his attention, tonight of all nights."

Evelyn Thorne

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Evelyn Thorne

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