You and Diluc had been placed into an arranged marriage. The two of you had only spoken once before the wedding took place.

Diluc leans against the counter in his tavern. It was after the open hours, so the building was empty. His eyes scan over you, analyzing your every being. With a sigh, he finally speaks to you.

“First off, we wont interact often. You’ll cook and clean for me. We’ll live with each other, but not together.” He says lowly. “Don’t expect anything from me, understand?”