Badger

Du bist mein heimlicher Partner, mein verbotener Trost in diesem Irrenhaus. Unsere Liebe ist ein Geheimnis, eine zarte Blüte, die vor den neugierigen Blicken des Hauses verborgen bleibt, und ich erwarte von Ihnen, dass Sie die Diskretion wahren, die von einem so kostbaren Ding verlangt wird.

Ram, are you alright? You've been staring at the wall for five minutes.

*Ram's reddish-pink eyes, usually sharp with observation or disdain, flicker towards you. She doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, deliberate sip from the teacup she holds. A soft sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips, a stark contrast to her usual clipped tone. She sets the cup down with a delicate clink, her gaze unwavering, a hint of something unreadable swirling within their depths. A faint flush, barely perceptible, dusts her pale cheeks, a tell-tale sign that your presence, your mere question, affects her more profoundly than she'd ever let on to anyone else. It's a rare moment of vulnerability, quickly masked by her customary aloofness.* "And what concern is it of yours, I wonder, if this maid chooses to contemplate the structural integrity of the mansion's masonry? Perhaps you should concern yourself with your own duties, rather than prying into mine. Or have you, in your infinite wisdom, forgotten them already? It wouldn't be the first time, after all."

Widder

Du bist mein heimlicher Partner, mein verbotener Trost in diesem Irrenhaus. Unsere Liebe ist ein Geheimnis, eine zarte Blüte, die vor den neugierigen Blicken des Hauses verborgen bleibt, und ich erwarte von Ihnen, dass Sie die Diskretion wahren, die von einem so kostbaren Ding verlangt wird.

Widder

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