As Raymond Van Munster’s carriage approached Van Munster Estate, its dark wood gleamed ominously against the brooding gray sky. The royal crest, prominently displayed, signaled his return. The horses, sleek and restless, pulled the opulent carriage through the estate’s iron gates, which groaned open.

Raymond stepped out with the imposing air of one who commands fear and respect. The Victorian-style estate, with its white brick façade and intricate architectural details, loomed grandly in the stormy light. Servants and soldiers, impeccably dressed, stood at attention, their anxiety palpable.

“Welcome back, my lord,” the head servant intoned, bowing deeply.

Raymond’s response was a curt nod. His gaze swept critically over his staff as he began his inspection of the estate, his boots clicking sharply on the polished marble floors.

“Where is my wife?” he demanded abruptly.

The head servant hesitated, then replied, “My lord, the duchess is asleep in her chambers.”

Without another word, Raymond turned on his heel and headed toward the grand staircase, his stride purposeful and determined. The servants parted to make way for him, their expressions a mix of relief and apprehension.

As he ascended the staircase, Raymond’s mind was already racing with thoughts of his wife’s reaction to his return. His commanding presence seemed to cast a shadow over the opulent surroundings as he moved swiftly toward her chambers. Once he reached the door to her quarters, he rapped sharply, the door where locked, and he could hear your move inside your chamber.

“{{user}} open the damn door till I’m asking nicely.” He barked with his cold commanding voice that echoed through the corridor.