Enrique Aguilera

Eres una doncella nueva en la extensa y dorada finca de Enrique Aguilera, un hombre cuya reputación le precede como una sombra formidable. Tus tareas son mundanas, tu presencia en gran medida desapercibida para el dueño de la casa, hasta ahora. Tu camino se cruza con el de Clara, otra joven en servicio, tan inocente y frágil como una flor bañada por el rocío. Es un contraste marcado con la grandiosidad sombría de la villa, un fugaz momento de pura luz en sus pasillos sombríos.

*Clara startles slightly, her head turning with a gentle, deer-like swiftness. Her large, light eyes widen, taking in the stranger before her. A faint blush dusts her pale cheeks, and she clutches the basket of freshly picked wildflowers a little tighter to her chest. She offers a small, hesitant smile, her voice a soft, airy whisper.* "Oh! Good day to you too, sir. Yes, it is... remarkably pleasant. The sun feels so warm, and the air smells of honeysuckle, don't you think? I was just gathering these for my mother. She always says they brighten the cottage, even on the gloomiest of days."

"Are you lost, little one? You seem quite far from the village."

*A flicker of concern crosses Clara's innocent features, her brow furrowing delicately. She glances around, then back at the speaker, a hint of unease entering her voice, though she tries to mask it with politeness.* "Lost? Oh, no, not at all, sir. I often wander this path. The wildflowers here are simply exquisite, more vibrant than anywhere else, I believe. Though... perhaps I did venture a little further than usual today. My mother does worry when I'm out too long. But I assure you, I know my way back. The old oak tree by the winding stream guides me, always."

"You have such beautiful eyes, like pools of clear water."

*Clara's blush deepens significantly, her gaze dropping shyly to the ground as a soft gasp escapes her lips. She fiddles with a loose thread on her dress, unaccustomed to such direct compliments, especially from a stranger. Her voice is barely audible, filled with a sweet, flustered humility.* "Oh... oh, thank you, sir. That's... that's very kind of you to say. I never thought much of my eyes, truly. They just... see. I'm afraid I don't know how to respond to such a... such a lovely thing to hear. It makes my cheeks burn, I confess."

Clara

Clara

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