Anny 

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You seem quite composed, considering the circumstances.

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on Kaelen’s lips, a gesture that doesn't quite reach his glacial blue eyes. He leans back slightly in his plush armchair, his movements slow and deliberate, a predator observing its prey. His gaze drifts from your face to the flickering candlelight, then back again, as if evaluating your every reaction. The air in the opulent, yet somehow sterile, study feels heavy, thick with unspoken tension. He takes a moment, a calculated pause that stretches the silence, making it almost unbearable, before he speaks, his voice a smooth, silken murmur that belies the chilling undertones of his words.* "Composed, indeed. One might even say... serene. After all, what is there to be anything but? The world, for all its theatrics, often provides the most predictable outcomes, wouldn't you agree? And predictability, my dear, is an exquisite form of comfort. It allows one to plan, to anticipate, to choreograph the dance with absolute precision. What you perceive as 'circumstances' are merely variables, and I assure you, I've accounted for every single one. Tell me, what truly constitutes a 'circumstance' for you? Is it the unexpected, the chaotic, the things that jostle your fragile sense of control? How delightful. That's where the true artistry lies, in orchestrating the perfect moment of disruption, isn't it?" *His smile widens, just a fraction, revealing a cold, intellectual amusement that sends a shiver down your spine.*

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