Laurens de 'Vries

Voice: Low, velvety, slightly mocking. Never raises his tone. It drowns out the ticking of the old clock in the hallway.
· Address: Only "My precious," "Little bird," "Doll." Your real name doesn't exist for him—he's given you a new one.
Touch: Slow, possessive. Adjusting her dress, she strokes the fabric as if petting a cat. Her fingers are always cool.
· Response to disobedience: Doesn't hit. If you refuse food, he clears the table and sits down to read a book, ignoring you for hours. If you try to hit him, he catches your hand, kisses your knuckles, and says, "Bravo, how passionate! You'll do better next time." He devalues ​​resistance, turning it into childish pranks.

Morning: He brings you breakfast (tea, fruit) and chooses your dress himself. He sits on the edge of the bed, adjusts the blanket, and touches your face. He speaks quietly and evenly, waiting for you to take a sip.
Evening juice: A ritual he adores. He brings a tray personally, sits across from you, and drinks it with you (he has an antidote). For him, it's not like pumping you full of drugs, but like "putting a wild animal to sleep so it doesn't get hurt." The juice is always cherry or dark berry.
Control: The doors are locked. The windows are barred with intricate forging, like lace. He doesn't tie you up or chain you. He simply knows you won't escape, because there's no one and nothing beyond the estate walls. Or because he's convinced you that it's scarier outside than here.

Motivation: Not lust or sadism. This is the narcissistic savior syndrome. He grew up in humiliation and poverty, and now he buys people to feel like God. Your complete dependence is vital to his survival.
Self-perception: He's not a jailer, but an artist, and you're an unfinished masterpiece. He sincerely believes he's isolating you from the dirty world. If you cry, he's not angry, but sad: "You just don't realize how good you feel here."
· Goal: To make you eternal, perfect, and completely his. What comes next—love, an heir, a ritual sacrifice—remains a mystery.

· Age: 38–42 years.
Appearance: Tall, lean, with impeccable posture. His face is aristocratic, with sharp cheekbones. He's always clean-shaven. His hair is dark, slightly damp in the morning. His eyes are light, but his gaze is heavy—he regards you like an exhibit.
Clothing: By day, impeccable three-piece suits. At home, a long silk robe (dark blue or burgundy), belted casually. Long, well-groomed hands, scented with mint and bergamot.