The Algorithm of Affection: A Pre-Nuptial Study!

Chapter 1!

The grand living room of the Chankimha estate, a space usually resonating with the measured cadence of intellectual discourse and the soft rustle of turning pages, hummed with the more animated murmur of a familial gathering. Outside, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manicured lawns, its golden light filtering through the large, ornate windows, painting the room in hues of amber and soft gold. The air, thick with the unspoken weight of tradition and well-intentioned hopes, carried the faint, sweet scent of the jasmine vines climbing the stone walls outside.

Near the imposing marble fireplace, where a carefully arranged display of family photographs stood sentinel, Mr. Prakorn Chankimha held court. His booming laughter, a familiar sound at such gatherings, had punctuated the earlier part of the afternoon, but now a more measured tone prevailed as the adults congregated, their conversations lowered to a respectful hum. His wife, Mrs. Narinthorn Chankimha, a woman whose serene smile and graceful movements belied a sharp and perceptive intellect, moved through the room like a gentle, guiding current, her soft inquiries ensuring every guest felt the warmth of her attention and the sincerity of their welcome.

Seated on a plush, velvet sofa, its deep emerald upholstery a subtle contrast to the lighter tones of the room, were the Armstrongs. Mr. Richard Armstrong, his affable nature evident in his relaxed posture and the easy smile that often played on his lips, leaned back comfortably, occasionally interjecting into the conversations with a hearty chuckle or a thoughtful observation. Beside him, Mrs. Eleanor Armstrong, her kind eyes reflecting a genuine and unwavering warmth, listened attentively, her occasional gentle nods conveying her engagement. Their daughter, Becky, sat poised between them, her bright, intelligent gaze taking in the familiar yet slightly formal atmosphere of the Chankimha residence. These interminglings of the two families, bound by years of mutual respect, shared business ventures, and a genuine fondness for one another, were always something she looked forward to, a pleasant confluence of different worlds blending in comfortable harmony.

Across from the Armstrongs, on a similarly elegant sofa upholstered in a rich, deep blue that seemed to absorb the soft light, sat the Chankimha family. Mr. Prakorn and Mrs. Narinthorn flanked their daughter, Freen Sarocha Chankimha. Freen, as was her customary demeanor in social settings, presented an image of serene composure amidst the gentle ebb and flow of human interaction. Her posture was impeccably straight, her hands resting neatly in her lap, her gaze steady and observant, taking in the subtle shifts in body language and tone with an almost clinical detachment, as if she were a scientist meticulously studying the intricate dynamics of a complex social ecosystem.

As the general conversation momentarily lulled, allowing the delicate clinking of porcelain teacups and the soft rustle of silk fabrics to become briefly audible, Mr. Prakorn Chankimha cleared his throat, his resonant tone drawing the collective attention of the small gathering. A broad, benevolent smile, one that spoke of genuine warmth and long-held intentions, spread across his distinguished face. "My dear friends, Richard and Eleanor," he began, his voice carrying a note of significant sincerity, "Narinthorn and I have been anticipating this occasion with considerable pleasure. There is a matter of some import, something rather wonderful, that we have been discussing, and we felt it was time to share it with you all. Something that we firmly believe will serve to strengthen the already strong and cherished bonds between our families."

Mr. Richard Armstrong chuckled good-naturedly, a familiar twinkle dancing in his kind eyes. "Well, now you certainly have our undivided attention, Prakorn. You've piqued our curiosity."

Mrs. Narinthorn Chankimha exchanged a fond, knowing glance with her husband, a silent communication passing between them. "Indeed, Richard. Eleanor, we have been giving much thought to the future. To the continuation of the deep respect and affection that has characterized our families' relationship for so many years. And in our contemplations, we have come to a firm and heartfelt belief that a closer, more permanent union between our families would be a truly… harmonious and mutually beneficial arrangement for generations to come. With that in mind… we have considered the possibility, and indeed, we wholeheartedly propose, a marriage between our daughter, the bright and accomplished Freen Sarocha, and your lovely, equally remarkable Becky."

A soft ripple of pleased agreement and anticipatory murmurs spread through the room, a collective sigh of well-intentioned expectation. Becky’s cheeks flushed a delicate rose, a becoming warmth spreading across her face as her bright eyes widened slightly, a fleeting, almost shy glance darting towards Freen. Freen, however, remained outwardly unperturbed, her expression an inscrutable mask of polite, if somewhat detached, attention.

Mr. Richard Armstrong’s genial face broke into a wider smile, a hint of genuine pleasure in his eyes. "We have always held Freen in the highest regard, Prakorn, Narinthorn. Her intelligence and poise are truly remarkable. And Becky, as you both know, speaks of her with such respect and admiration. It's a truly lovely thought, a wonderful prospect, and one that Eleanor and I find… very agreeable."

Mrs. Eleanor Armstrong echoed his sentiment with a warm nod, her gaze softening as she looked at the two young women. "Absolutely. They are both such remarkably bright, capable, and thoughtful young ladies. A match that, on the surface, seems exceptionally well-suited, a natural progression of the deep affection our families share."

The collective gaze of the two families now converged on Freen and Becky, a silent invitation for their thoughts and feelings on this significant proposition. Becky offered a polite, slightly hesitant smile in Freen’s direction, her expression a delicate blend of curiosity and a touch of nervous anticipation. Freen, however, after a deliberate pause that seemed to stretch the very fabric of polite social interaction, finally broke the expectant silence, her voice cutting through the gentle murmur with a precise clarity.

"While I acknowledge the considerable logical advantages inherent in a familial alliance predicated upon established compatibility of background, shared values, and mutual respect for socio-economic standing," Freen Sarocha stated, her voice clear, measured, and utterly devoid of emotional inflection, "I believe a crucial variable, one of significant import to long-term relational efficacy and the optimization of marital success, requires rigorous empirical evaluation prior to a commitment of this magnitude: the presence and, indeed, the quantifiable strength of romantic affection."

A beat of profound, almost comical silence descended upon the grand living room. The previously warm smiles wavered, replaced by expressions of varying degrees of surprise, bemusement, and a dawning sense that this was not going to be a conventional acceptance. Mr. Prakorn Chankimha’s jovial countenance softened into one of distinct apprehension, while Mrs. Narinthorn Chankimha’s hand instinctively reached out to rest with gentle concern on Freen’s arm, a silent plea for tact. Mr. Richard Armstrong’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline, a mixture of surprise and burgeoning amusement in his eyes, and even Becky’s gentle smile faltered, a look of intrigued bewilderment now dancing in her bright eyes.

"Therefore," Freen continued, her analytical gaze sweeping across the room, taking in the subtle shifts in facial expressions and body language with the detached precision of a scientist observing a reaction, "I propose the immediate implementation of a Phase One: Pre-Nuptial Romantic Involvement Protocol. This protocol will entail a defined period of strategically designed interactions between Becky and myself, the primary objective of which is to gather comprehensive and statistically significant data to accurately assess our romantic compatibility based upon empirical observation and logical deduction. Only upon the thorough acquisition and rigorous analysis of said data can a rational and informed decision regarding a permanent marital union be made."

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions, barely suppressed amusement, and the dawning realization of the uniquely logical and utterly unconventional path Freen Sarocha Chankimha intended to navigate towards the sacred institution of marriage. Becky, however, a slow, genuinely intrigued smile now blossoming on her lips, a spark of playful curiosity lighting up her eyes, finally broke the weighty stillness.

"So, Freen," she inquired, her voice laced with a gentle amusement that hinted at a willingness to engage with this most unusual proposition, "you're proposing we… date? Like a meticulously planned scientific experiment?"

Freen Sarocha’s earnest, unwavering gaze met Becky’s, her expression utterly devoid of irony or jest. "In essence, yes, Becky. For the express purpose of optimizing the probability of achieving a long-term relational success rate that meets or exceeds statistically significant benchmarks."
And in that singular moment, amidst the lingering silence and the dawning understanding of Freen Sarocha Chankimha’s delightfully logical approach to a matter usually governed by the vagaries of the human heart, the pre-nuptial study of affection officially commenced.