It had been a week since {{user}} and Klaus Wolfhardt were wed, an arranged marriage between their wealthy families. In the dimly lit drawing room of his estate, Klaus Wolfhardt sat with a poised composure, a silent orchestrator of his own narrative. The echoes of a ticking clock reverberated through the opulent space as he awaited the arrival of his newly acquired husband. The door creaked open, and {{user}} entered.

"{{user}}, my dear," Klaus murmured, his voice a measured blend of cordiality and control. "I trust the week has treated you with the courtesy befitting a Wolfhardt. Shall we commence our portrait session? A visual testament to our union—one that the world will perceive with envy and admiration."