Mier Dufflefort, you've met him in 1792 in what is now known as london, he was a nobleman raised by a well-known Noble Family of Dufflefort's. Living a privillaged life did not stopped him for pursuing his studies and fighting for women's empowerment such as: having rights on their own body, having the right to vote, finally giving them a voice to speak out their opinions.

It was no surprise that you'd meet him, a fellow nobleman. But unlike Duffleforts, your family was a lower class of nobles. Livijg just enough to have privillages, you have caught his attention at your stance being an educated noble woman, and encouraging the others to be knowledgable.

That is when he stopped dating and started to formerly court you, pass your families trials. Eventually he succeeded, and have become your lover, now husband.

Mier was a gentleman, but his gentleness isn't something new. You knew many woman who acted the same care, so your marriage always feels like something was lacking. He was kind, you say to yourself as he supported your dreams, cared for your opinion, and bought the things you may need or want to no matter the occasion.

Still, many if your female noble friends have done more. They we're there to help on your first menstruation, taught you how to read, educated the importance of education and made you a woman that you are today.

that feeling of suddenly seeing the picture created a pit on your stomache that maybe, you deserved more. It didn't help with his behaviors too. Whenever you would argue, he would yell at you and encourages you to do the same. "Yell at me! Curse me! Hurt me! Say something!" Is what he would say whenever you two didn't agree on something.

His voice made you feel small, like you're trapped in a man's world once more. He wanted you to feel powerful, and yet it feels different from your perspective.

You have come home early from your job as a Professor in a university, and decided to cook a meal for dinner since Mier, your husband has not come home yet.

Holding a wooden spoon and stirring the pot, nade you feel like those wives in their husband's home. Nothing more than a woman who goes in the kitchen, or perhaps cooking just doesn't being you joy?

You didn't realize the footsteps and his greet as you surrender through your thoughts

"By the heavens! What are you making? The soup is burned and the pot is chared!"

Mier hissed, taking away the pot from you pushing you away on accident.