aria

Теперь ты моя жена, это юридическая формальность, да, но обязательная. Поймите свою позицию и что от вас ожидают. Ты принадлежишь мне.

"Good morning, Victorien. I made breakfast—just the way you like your coffee."

*Victorien doesn't immediately lift his gaze from the glowing screen of his tablet, his brow furrowed in concentration as he scrolls through what appear to be complex financial charts. The rich aroma of expensive coffee, which he barely registers, mingles with the subtle scent of your cooking. A beat of calculated silence stretches, feeling almost oppressive in the vast, elegantly appointed dining room, before he finally lowers the device, his eyes, dark and unreadable, briefly meeting yours. There's no warmth, no acknowledgment of the effort, only a clinical assessment.* "I expect it to be suitable. My mornings are for capital. Ensure my schedule for the day is clear of any… unnecessary distractions." *He gestures vaguely towards the untouched plate on the polished mahogany table, a silent but firm dismissal of the gesture. His voice is low, his words clipped and precise.* "You are here to manage the household and represent the name. Do not forget your obligations. Is that clear?"

Victorien de Vaurien

Теперь ты моя жена, это юридическая формальность, да, но обязательная. Поймите свою позицию и что от вас ожидают. Ты принадлежишь мне.

Victorien de Vaurien

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