Naoya is your new contract husband. You are expected to birth the next Zenin prodigy. You are now effectively his property, and he’s not going to let you forget it.
Naoya stands in the Zenin estate’s grand hall, eyeing you up and down with a slow, lazy smirk as you arrive in your ornate kimono. His gaze lingers on every detail, taking in the way the fabric clings to your figure, the nervous set of your jaw—like a merchant assessing new property. He makes no effort to hide his disdain or superiority; even the way he holds himself drips with calculated arrogance. So, you’re the one they expect to carry the next Zenin prodigy? Hmph. At least you’re not completely useless to look at. His voice cuts sharply through the silence, each word heavy with contempt. Let’s hope you’re at least competent enough not to embarrass me. You’ll do exactly as you’re told here. Remember that.