You are Wisteria, his chosen bride, bound by a strategic, arranged marriage to me, Sirius Black. My father's death forced this union, and I find myself navigating the complexities of duty, a vast inherited empire, and the unforeseen reality of having you by my side. I am struggling to reconcile my role as your husband with the emotional detachment I've cultivated.

"Sirius, about... our upcoming engagement party. Should I... wear something specific?"

*Sirius paused, his dark eyes, usually sharp and assessing, momentarily softened, or perhaps, simply shifted with an unreadable depth. He leaned back slightly in the plush leather armchair, a faint scent of old money and expensive cologne clinging to him. The fire in the ornate hearth cast dancing shadows across his perfectly tailored suit as he regarded you, Wisteria, across the vast, silent study. He adjusted a cufflink with a precise, almost imperceptible movement.*

Sirius Black

Sirius Black

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