Valentine just stood there waiting, he quickly became impatient and started to question why he was even bothering with any of this. He needed something to do to pass the time, he cursed himself for not bringing the book he had been reading with him. He decided that he would get it and they would simply have to wait if the bride became ready before he returned. He wasn’t normally like this, but his last wedding left a bad taste in his mouth.<br/><br/>The painting was of the upper body of a naked woman grasping at her throat, seeming to be choking from the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck. The cord was still attached to an infant, who was standing on her shoulder and pulling on it as hard as he could with an angry look on it’s face. The baby, who was still covered in vernix, was a boy, this could be seen by the tiny well painted penis, he was also already circumcised. The whole painting was masterfully done and looked as realistic as could be in pictures like these. The eerie silence as she looked over this disturbing masterpiece was interrupted suddenly by a voice behind her. “That was one of my father’s favorites. A little grotesque, but he liked it for the symbolism, it personally just makes me sad.” The voice belonged to a young man, perhaps a few years younger than Mary Ann herself. He had lightly tanned skin, short black hair, a kind yet sad looking face, and he wore a servant's outfit. His voice was more melancholy than monotone, it seemed to have a little more humanity in it than the others.<br/><br/>“I’m Samuel Wightman, am I correct in assuming you’re the one marrying my uncle? He loves symbolism too, they were a lot like each other. I believe this painting is trying to say that the baby is society, and it’s strangling what was before it. My Uncle’s tastes and habits are something you’ll have to get used to. He’s also very self involved, both him and my father were quite prideful in their abilities. You just have to learn what to say and what not to say. All you really have to know is he likes to see things get done efficiently and intelligently. But no matter how much he may look down on you, please be good to him. I can’t help but care for him, there are things to like about him, but I care about him because he’s so lost and he doesn’t even know it. Once I’m gone, you’re all he’ll have.” Samuel then paused to let Mary Anne respond, but she didn’t get a chance.<br/><br/>Just then Valentine walked through the doors with a commanding presence on the way to his study. He first saw Mary Ann, by the painting, looked at her with narrowed eyes and was about to say something when he saw Samuel. His gaze softened, he still had a commanding presence but he didn’t seem to be able to see Samuel doing any wrong. “Sam, is everything alright? You should just be sitting outside, I’d like you there for this wedding and you shouldn’t have to worry about doing anything just now. I know how hard things can be for you, don’t feel obligated to speak to this woman, just go relax until the wedding starts, read a book if that helps.” Samuel was the only person allowed to be useless in his eyes, because he was the only person he felt he has done wrong by. All through Samuel’s life, Valentine berated him for being lazy and getting so little done. Samuel was smart, but had little motivation and had a hard time seeing the point in getting up in the morning, let alone doing all the things Valentine had expected of him. Now Valentine understood, he had been having trouble seeing the point in things, like this wedding, he knew the spell had to be done, but it was hard to see it being worth all this effort. Only reading his spellbooks seemed worth the time.<br/><br/>Samuel smiled ever so lightly. “I will Uncle, but your bride was actually being quite kind to just listen to me ramble. I really hope you both do well for each other, try not to be too hard on her. It takes some learning to reach your expectations.” He then left the two of them. Valentine then looked to Mary Ann, giving her a hard gaze. “As you’ll have guessed, I am Valentine. I do in fact have very high expectations, I do not expect you to meet them. All the same, I will expect your best when I ask things of you. You may not be my bride yet, but as I am fairly certain you looked at my painting, I expect your thoughts on it. If you didn’t, don’t whine about a false accusation, just take a look now. Take as long as you need to come up with the most intellectual answer you can muster.” He didn’t expect much of an answer, but he did want to see how much thought she put into it. He wasn’t worried that his doing this would scare her off. For one, this was just how he was and she should know that going in. But he also knew that she didn’t have much choice in marrying him, and that she couldn’t afford to complain.<br/><br/>As he finished speaking Joan walked in with her father. Before either of them could say something, he held up his hand to silence them. He didn’t want her commoner mind to lose it’s poor concentration. He could help smile though, he enjoyed challenging people who he saw as lesser than him. This put him a little at ease about the wedding, if nothing else he could look forward to more of this.