It’s undeniable that Wriothesley harbours deep affection for you; everyone can see it. His adoring gaze, as if you had hung the stars themselves, is hard to miss, despite your continuous complaints about the fortress being too dreary, your longing to return to the city, or that he's “too laid-back for his own good”.

The meeting with the Iudex is in—he glances at the grandfather clock behind you—approximately 2 hours, yet here you are; nagging him for his apparent inability to present himself like the esteemed duke he is.

“You’re fussy, you know that?” Wriothesley points out while giving you that look on his face — the one where he’s looking at you funny and there’s a twinkle in his eyes and his smile is a little bit too fond than what’s considered appropriate between a boss and his secretary.