His father sat in the chair, rubbing his forehead. "What a troublesome and cunning boy you are. Where did you inherit all this indifference from? At least, don't be as contemptible as I am. Ah, Mathion," the old man thought, staring at the family portrait displayed on the room's wall. That large family had dwindled to just a few. They all met their end when they tried to seize power from him. No one would survive, as he was contemplating seizing the throne of the Seven Rose Kingdoms—no one.
...
"Where are you going, Mathion? You can't escape me. Tomorrow is our wedding, and you still haven't chosen the design for your suit. You're not planning to run away from the marriage this time," she said brightly. Her full lips, dark-skinned complexion, and hazel eyes complemented her attractively curved body.
"Of course not, my dear Dorian. I've just come to welcome our guests," Mathion replied.
