As they headed towards the conference room, Clayton crossed paths with Bright and Emma, a broad grin spreading across his face.
"Ah, Bright, you've done well," Clayton remarked, his voice loud and jovial.
"You've chosen a fine, fertile young woman. Now, remember, the first child must be a boy, of course!" His words hung in the air, brimming with expectation.
Bright sighed deeply, his eyes betraying the weight of the pressure he constantly felt.
"Right, Father… I'll keep that in mind," he responded, his tone lacking any enthusiasm.
Emma, standing beside him, couldn't help but wince at Clayton's blunt comment. The reality of the immense expectations placed on Bright—particularly the demand to produce an heir—suddenly hit her with full force.
Clayton, oblivious to the tension he'd caused, chuckled heartily.
