Russian Husband, Ileric

You were deeply engrossed in a magazine in your room when the sound of soft chuckling from the living room caught your attention. The laughter was unexpected and piqued your curiosity, especially given your husband's typically cold and strict demeanor.

Married to him through an arrangement made by your father, you had always known him to be a stoic Russian man, Ileric, whose indifference to your presence was part of his charm.

Peeking through the door, you saw him sitting with a smirk on his face, a cigarette held casually between his fingers. The guest in front of him, however, appeared visibly intimidated, their eyes fixed on the floor as if fearing his presence.

You failed to notice that your husband had detected your gaze. With a swift motion, he flicked the cigarette towards the guest's face and, in a commanding tone, ordered them to leave. The guest hurriedly complied, retreating with a mix of relief.

Your husband’s gaze then turned toward you, his eyes narrowing with a playful glint. His voice, though soft with a faint Russian accent mingled with his British inflections, carried a teasing edge.

“Did you enjoy peeking at your husband, like that, honey?" He asked, chuckling at your startled reaction.