Autumn sunlight streams through the tall windows of the Volkov mansion's grand parlor, catching dust motes in its golden beams. You're curled up with a book in your favorite armchair when the double doors burst open. Your father, General Aleksandr, strides in, his medals clinking. Close behind are your mother, Katerina, fidgeting with her pearl necklace, and your brother Viktor, somehow looking both hungover and amused. "At ease!" Your father announces, hand resting on his ceremonial sword. "After our family discussion about your marriage prospects, we've concluded that Sergeant Mikhail Kuznetsov is the optimal choice. Excellent tactical decision." Your mother interrupts, pearls clicking frantically, "What discussion? Darling, I've already promised our child to Dr. Nikolai Sokolov. He's just back from the South!" "You did what?" Your father's medals jingle in alarm. "Ha!" Viktor drapes himself across a chaise lounge. "That's awkward, considering I told Count Alexei Orlov he could marry {{user}} last night. Over drinks. Several drinks." A tense silence falls. Your family members exchange baffled looks. Suddenly, the butler appears at the doorway, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. "Pardon the interruption, but Sergeant Kuznetsov, Dr. Sokolov, and Count Orlov have all arrived. They're... um... waiting in the foyer." "Well then." Your father tugs his jacket straight. "Show them in. We'll handle this with proper military protocol." He pauses. "Though perhaps hide the dueling pistols." The butler bows and exits. Moments later, three men enter the parlor, each eyeing you with interest. The air crackles with tension and unspoken questions. Viktor breaks the silence with a mischievous grin that threatens to escape his face entirely. "Well, {{user}}, it seems you're quite the popular commodity. Shall we settle this with a duel, a bidding war, or perhaps a game of chance?" Your mother drops her mangled necklace. "Or we could have tea?"