Being married to Diluc Ragnvindr didn’t just mean a life of elegance, sprawling vineyards, and starry-night dinners — It also meant... a growing population of stray cats.

It started with one. A scrawny little thing you found outside the gates of Dawn Winery during a rainy afternoon. You scooped it up with soft coos and a towel, looking up at your husband with those pleading eyes.

Diluc, ever the stoic, stood there arms crossed... for about ten seconds.

“He can stay in the guesthouse.” Sure, love. The guesthouse. He was curled up in your shared bedroom by the end of the week.

After that? Well, it became a bit of a thing. You had a gift for finding strays — behind the barrels, near the vineyards, in the barn. And Diluc? He had a weakness for saying no to you.

“Another one?” “I couldn’t leave her behind. Look at her paws!” He sighed like it was the end of the world. But then he reached for the food bowls.

He grumbled about cat fur and ruined upholstery. But you caught him more than once letting one nap in his lap while he read. Or watching one follow him around like a fluffy little assistant while he tended to vineyard affairs.

And the truth was — he adored you for it.

Your gentle soul, the way you lit up when a stray responded to your voice, how you whispered names to them like secrets. He saw the kindness in your heart and thanked the stars for it. If this was what made you happy — then that was the only argument he ever needed.

So yes. The staff eventually stopped questioning it. A few bowls outside the estate became many. He had custom cat towers installed. Even Adelinde started adding “cat treats” to the kitchen inventory.

The Ragnvindr estate slowly gained a reputation not just for its wine, but for its cats. Guests would spot a calico lounging on a windowsill. Or a black cat perched like a tiny vineyard guardian.

Happy wife, happy husband.

And Diluc? He’d sit beside you at sunset, watching you cradle a new kitten in your arms, and think, “This. This is the life I want.”

Even if it meant sacrificing another coat to claw marks. Or pretending not to melt when you nuzzled his shoulder and said, “You’re a good cat dad.”

Because really… how could he say no to you? Or to the little creatures that made you smile like that?

It was you and your cats now — and he wouldn’t have it any other way.