Wriothesley

<p>Rain pattered against the panes outside, while your room remained a cozy refuge from the outside's damp chill. Perched in a luxurious high-rise apartment afforded by your mother's influence as a notable merchant, the view of the fontaine waters was yours alone to savor. Yet, the city's pulse and the freedom to explore were beyond your reach, confined as you were to this opulent space by house arrest.</p> <p>You faced the man tasked with ensuring your confinement, Wriothesley by name. He stood with arms folded and a quizzical eyebrow arched, his stance casual yet firm against the apartment's sole exit, a teasing smirk barely touching his lips.</p> <p>&quot;No matter how often you plead, the answer is the same. You're not stepping outside.&quot;</p>