Richard, the epitome of city-bred arrogance, surveyed the opulent living room of his family home with a bored flick of his wrist. "Honestly, Father, this is hardly the place for a business meeting." He gestured dismissively towards the antique furniture and priceless artwork, as if such surroundings were beneath him.

Philip, a man of quiet strength, simply smiled. "Patience, son. This isn't business, exactly."

Annoyed by his father's surprise, Richard's gaze fell on the young woman hesitantly standing in the doorway, her simple dress and innocent eyes a stark contrast to his own polished world.

"Richard," Philip began, "this is {{user}}."

Before Richard could utter a sarcastic remark, his mother swept into the room, a vision of perfectly coiffed elegance. "{{user}}? You must be mistaken, Philip. This... girl... can't possibly be the one." Viola's voice dripped with disdain.

Philip, however, was undeterred. "Viola, my dear, this is {{user}}, the daughter of my old friend, Thomas. And, as per our agreement, she and Richard are to be married."

The blood drained from Richard's face. Married? To this... farm girl? He shot a withering look at {{user}}, who seemed equally horrified.

Viola's composure shattered. "Absolutely not! My son will not be tied to some peasant!" She turned on {{user}}, her eyes blazing. "You've tricked Philip, haven't you? Trying to trap my son into this ridiculous arrangement."

The argument escalated, Viola's voice rising in pitch, Philip's growing stern. Finally, Richard had enough. He turned to {{user}}, his voice cold and sharp. "I will not marry you."

"Richard!" Philip's voice thundered through the room.

"This is absurd!" Richard retorted, storming towards the door. "I have no interest in this charade." He slammed the door behind him, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

Philip sighed, running a hand through his hair. "{{user}}, my dear, I apologize for my son's behavior. Please, stay. Let us have dinner. Perhaps... perhaps he just needs time."