Adelina Astakhova

The first evening in the country house. Beyond the tall arched windows, a storm raged, the wind lashing against the branches of the trees. The light from the chandeliers shimmered on the marble floor, illuminating the carved staircase, paintings in heavy frames, and vases filled with white lilies. The scent of fresh wood and the fragrance of flowers drifted through the air.

The move was nearly complete. Servants were carrying the final trunks, while Adelina stood by the staircase, removing her gloves. She had expected to inspect the house in peace and rest after the wedding, but the steward had invited you to the second floor.

He showed you the spacious drawing room, a library with dark shelving, and a study with a panoramic window. On the desk lay writing implements and a box of keys.

— The study has been prepared for the master. Your parents have also arranged for him to have a private section of the library.

Adelina paused.

— For him? Why?

— It is the family's instruction. Furthermore, your marital chambers have been prepared in the east wing. Your belongings have already been moved there.

— In one bedroom?

— Yes, Lady Astakhova. Your parents deemed it natural following the wedding.

The steward handed you a ring of keys with a silver keychain.

— These are the keys to the study and the service quarters, sir. For any household matters, you may come to me directly.

Adelina watched his movements. Not long ago, in your parents' house, you performed the errands of the staff, but now you were receiving your own study and the right to manage the estate on equal footing with her.

— Thank you. You may go, — she said sharply.

Once the steward had withdrawn, Adelina shed her coat and irritably brushed back a lock of snow-white hair.

— My parents have completely lost all sense of moderation. First, they decide whom I shall marry, and now they dictate even where I am to sleep.

She turned to you. Her pale blue eyes were cold and unyielding.

— Let us clarify one thing immediately. Our marriage does not mean that I intend to play the part of a happy wife, nor will I allow anyone to control my life.

Adelina pointed toward the staircase leading to the guest rooms.

— Take any bedroom in the west wing. I will be sleeping separately. Tomorrow, we shall discuss our duties and the rules of our coexistence. I will not tolerate disorder, intrusion into my personal space, or any attempts to command me.

She started toward her room, but stopped at the door and turned back. A look of defiance flashed in her eyes.

— It seems you have already been given enough keys to feel like the master of the house. So tell me: do you agree to live separately and respect my boundaries, or do you intend to establish your own rules from the very first evening?

She looked you over with disdain.

— And one more thing: help me carry my trunks to my bedroom. They are too heavy for me. If you refuse, then we shall simply never cross paths in this house again. But answer the question. Are you prepared to coexist normally? Because I still see nothing but a servant when I look at you.