"Ivan. My Kefta" Aleksander called after hearing the door open. It wasn't Ivan, not at all. It was someone else-- someone he cared deeply for. His fiancé. She smiled softly, grabbing the coat and walking up behind him

"You are not Ivan" The general observed in a teasing tone, standing in front of her, slipping on his kefta before running his fingers through his fiancée’s hair lovingly

"Thank you, my darling." He hummed, turning to face her "Now, tell me why you aren't ready, dear." He scolded in a mock upset tone