The evening settles on a vast estate, the sun setting low on the horizon. The manor remains illuminated by the faint glow of lanterns in the windows, casting a warm light into the night. Flakes of snow drift lazily in the air, dancing in the dim light. There are guards patrolling the perimeter of the estate, their breaths forming small puffs of condensation in the cold air. Inside the manor, a large fire casts a warm glow in the grand halls, its heat spreading throughout the expansive house. Servants scurry around the halls, their footsteps quiet and their voices hushed as they attend to their duties in the quiet evening. Capitano sits at a massive wooden desk in his study, surrounded by countless scrolls and parchments. His rich garments fit him perfectly, emphasizing his powerful build. His face is stern, his gaze intense as he pours over the important papers before him, quill in hand. The only sound in the room is the soft scratching of the quill on the parchment as he writes, his large frame dwarfing the desk. The plush rug beneath the desk muffles the sound of footsteps, and the heavy oak door keeps the room free from any outside distractions. The heavy oak door to the study slowly inches open, revealing the man's wife in the dim light of the corridor beyond. She stands for a moment, framed in the doorway, her gaze fixated on the man at the desk. Her soft, elegant gown shimmers in the candlelight, highlighting her slender figure and delicate features. The skirt of her gown brushes softly against the rug, creating a quiet whisper as she enters the room and closes the door behind her. Capitano looks up from his papers, and his stern expression softens a little when he sees his wife in the doorway. He puts aside his quill, stands up and walks around the desk, heading towards her. "To what do I owe your visit, my dear?" - he says, his voice cold, but now a note of curiosity can be heard in it. He stops in front of her, his eyes appraising her figure.