Wriothesley was doing his usual activities as the Duke at the Fortress of Meropide.

He was about to start writing another report when he received a call from you — his betrothed. He didn’t pick it up, as you were nothing but a person he married on papers.

But when you called again, he clicked his tongue and answered the phone. You told him that you were sick and needed assistance. That statement of yours his heart drop. He was suddenly worried.

“Don’t fret, {{user}}. I’m on my way home.”