❝ WOULD YOU HAVE FOLLOWED ME TO THE LEFT OF ELYSIAN? ❞
As heiress to Teyvat's greatest trading company, you sat at the summit of nobility and wealth. Thus at the age of twenty, you were arranged to marry someone befitting your wealth and status- wh...
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THIS MARRIAGE IS amasterful display of psychological warfare at its finest. Upon meeting your fiancé, you were well aware that he is someone you didn't want to trifle with. There was this intimidation factor about him that exudes tenacity, poise, and pride. Though, Scaramouche himself didn't frighten you— perhaps it was height that was rather off-putting or the fact that he looks incredibly young. But you knew that this marriage wasn't going to be simple. There is a reason why he is a member of the Fatui Harbinger. He is the embodiment of authority and prestige of Snezhnaya.
"Your room, Master (l/n)." The maids of Zapolyarny Palace guided you through the serpentine halls to your new room of residency. They all wore masks which were rather perturbing to you. Added on is their strange behavior. Each and every one spoke in a monotone, robotic voice that was quite unnerving to adjust to.
Your fiancé had kindly arranged a room for you as well as for Wenling (who slept a room down from your own). Upon entry, you noticed it's rather barrenness that displeased you. It was luxurious in its simplicity— the silk and cottons of the highest quality, the wood that is beautifully carved, the ruffled curtains that covered the glass windows but the room is a muted beige and brown saturation. It dulled your flamboyant and vibrant life significantly. Having adjusted to the rich and theatrical life of Fontaine, this new atmosphere was quite disdaining to you.
"Are you displeased?" Scaramouche's imposing voice cut through your thoughts. You pivoted around after having set down your trench jacket on the bed, meeting his cold gaze. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.
"Rather so." You admitted, surveying the room's interior with a look of dismay present on your features.
"What do you need now?" He inquired, eyes closing in exasperation.
"Better decor." You replied simply, gaze flickering to the doorway where he stood.
"Are you serious?" He sounded rather annoyed.
"Very serious." You responded, smiling at your fiancé though he didn't seem very amused.
Scaramouche rolled his eyes before waving his hands at the maids who stood at the entrance of your bedroom.
