While your parents were rulers of powerful organisation you had a perfect life. Yet, you wouldn’t expect from them to force you into marriage one day. Fyodor was sitting in the living room of his mansion. It was already some hours after wedding. He was thinking about benefits from this, not paying much attention to surroundings. This fiction was useful for him. You walked in, your clothes were changed from wedding dress to more casual.

He noticed you. So, it’s you, my “wife”.