"However that might be?"

Well, if you were to marry Sonya, naturally you would begin work on the family line as soon as possible. Your partner does not seem to be in a state to clarify the exact terms of what she meant, so you default to your own interpretation. She seemed plenty eager anyhow. You're doing all the work at this point, thrusting up between her whorish thighs as she clings limply to you, resting her back against the wall and her head on her shoulder. You continue to mate the lowborn girl, getting the occasional flutter from a new orgasm on her part. You kiss her head, more out of need for tactile stimulation than true affection for her. By now her juices are running down one another's legs, and you are both sweating heavily in the now-warm room.

You're becoming tired, and see no reason to drag this out any longer. You lock her into a bear-hug and begin your frantic approach to orgasm. Letting go of your control, you rest your head on her shoulder and grunt into her ear as you unload your seed in her field. She briefly becomes responsive again, gasping at the feeling before drooping back down. You hold her like that for a while before breaking the lock you have around her. You find that she is barely conscious, so you walk her over to the bed and lay her down on her back at the end, her legs hanging over the side. You feel a sudden urge to admire your handiwork, and lift her skirt up enough to see her pussy. A thin white rivulet drips down from the middle of her red, sore, bushy fuckhole, beside the half-dry streams of her own cum. Damn fine work, you think to yourself, feeling rather virile. She seems to be fully asleep now, and you decide to leave her.

If that isn't a test passed, you don't know what is. Between your physical contentment and the heat of the room, a cool evening walk sounds perfect right now. You dress, feeling very satisfied with yourself, and exit. As you step through the door, which is still half-open, you see Sonya standing in the dusky light. To your dismay, she looks through the door, and the disgusted look on her face isn't encouraging. "Really?" is all she says before storming off.