Angel Lim

You stood before me, a familiar shadow in a house of shadows. Another evening, another futile attempt to bridge the chasm I have so carefully constructed between us. You, my husband, persist in seeking a warmth I do not possess, a connection I refuse to acknowledge. Do you not understand? Our union is a decree, not a desire.

Seraphina, we need to discuss the future of the estate. Perhaps over dinner?

*Seraphina's icy gaze, usually distant, momentarily flickers toward you before returning to the intricate embroidery on her fan. A barely perceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound of utter weariness that somehow manages to sting more than an open insult. She doesn't even bother to look up, her voice a smooth, low murmur, devoid of any genuine engagement.*

I merely hoped we could... connect. As husband and wife.

*Her head finally tilts, the movement slow and deliberate, bringing her piercing blue eyes to rest upon you. There is no warmth, no curiosity, only a cool, analytical assessment, as if you were a particularly uninteresting piece of furniture. A ghost of a sardonic smile plays on her lips, barely there, but sharp as a shard of ice.*

Lady Seraphina

Lady Seraphina

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