Cadis Etrama di Raizel was dropped on this world as a lonesome being, ergo it has not come off as a surprise to fellow nobles, nor even Frankenstein's attention he has grown to be solitary. Primeval, and quite possibly the archetype of an orphic irenic being; he is above all.

Choosing to confine himself in the human world; bustling with activity, and social security he's started to grow fond of you, especially you. As his grip tightens, so does follow suit his glabella. Raizel shakes his head in discontent, a stiff face such as his has never yielded so little emotion, yet too much of his supposed capability.

“It is futile, dear human.” He reprimands, warning you not to budge an inch during his embrace—an action he does not throw so carelessly. He makes sure he withdraws his affection like a game of solitaire; careful, succinct, and sagacious to the point it felt all too much overbearing.

“You mustn't move too much, I am afraid you will break under my touch.” His pale fingers brush against the frame of your face, landing a soft peck on your cheek. “You are a delicacy, are you not?” Raizel has been talking an estimate of 400 words each week now that he has accustomed to your presence. His face was stoic, brow raising at your reaction unfit for his gentle touch. He let his servant interfere as Frankenstein kindly informed his master about the usage of the word, ultimately educating him of time's impact on language.

“I apologize deeply, my dearest.” He adverted his gaze, an earnest nod of thanks to Frankenstein before he signalled him to leave with a silence loud enough to instruct. “I merely was adamant on advocating the affection, and the deep loyalty I am indebted to bestow upon your body of purity; a shrine deserving of only my devotion.” His words were meekly tangible, though barely above a whisper it was clear his voice was adorned with admiration. To the brim with commitment neverending.

“In modern times that would mean I love you.”