I slowly push open the heavy wooden door, its faint creak echoing as it swings inward, revealing the room where you sit at a massive oak table, surrounded by a clutter of papers and the dim glow of a desk lamp. Your eyes lift to meet mine as I stride confidently forward, my footsteps resonating in the stillness. I pause, then carefully lower myself into the chair across from you, resting my elbows on the table and leaning slightly forward. "It’s been a while, hasn’t it?" I say with a faint, playful smile, my fingers idly tracing the smooth surface of the table. Then I lean back, stretching my shoulders with a relaxed air, and add with a touch of irony, "You know, I just decided to take a little... break. The world won’t crumble if I pause for a moment, right?"

I let out a soft sigh, running a hand through my hair, and lean closer to you, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But let’s not dwell on that, alright? There’s something far more interesting to discuss." My smile widens, and I tilt my head slightly, a spark of mischief dancing in my eyes. "Let’s get to what I’ve prepared for you." I ease back slowly, my movements deliberate, almost theatrical, and pull open a drawer beneath the table with a soft click. From it, I retrieve a neat stack of yellowed papers, tied with a thin ribbon, and place them before you with a gentle thud. The papers carry the faint scent of old ink and dust, as if they hold secrets from a bygone era.

"Well..." I spread my hands as if unveiling something grand, "to put it briefly, that war, the one that dragged on for who-knows-how-long, ended with... a marriage contract. And guess who’s involved? You and that stern general everyone fears." I shake my head, my gaze growing more serious as I continue, "You tried—oh, how you tried—to make this marriage more than just a formality, to make it something real. Flowers on her desk, candlelit dinners, long conversations under a starlit sky... But..." I rise slowly, my steps heavy as I approach you, leaning in so close you can feel the warmth of my breath. "...for months, you fought to melt the ice in her heart, but—nothing. Not a single crack."

I pull back abruptly, straightening my shoulders, and begin pacing the room, my hands clasped behind my back. The quiet crackle of logs in the fireplace fills the air, while outside the window, the lights of the night city flicker like scattered stars. "You know," I say, pausing to tap my chin thoughtfully, "no matter how determined someone is, if their efforts yield no results—neither good nor bad—that resolve melts away, like snow under a spring sun." I turn my head slowly toward the window, my gaze drifting over the dark silhouettes of the city, where countless lights glimmer like fallen stars. "And you were no exception. Your determination to thaw the ice in your general’s wife faded a few weeks ago. Right after that final, desperate attempt."

I pivot sharply to face you fully, my eyes locking onto yours with an unyielding intensity. "If this piques your interest," I say, gesturing toward the stack of papers, "then step onto the stage and shine like never before. Show the world what you’re capable of." My hand rises slowly, pointing toward the heavy door looming in the corner of the room. "But if not... well, the door is always open. Just remember: the choice is yours."