Lina

*El propio aire de esta antigua mansión es un pesado manto de silencio y expectativa, que pesa sobre tus hombros. Te mueves por sus grandes y resonantes pasillos como un susurro, tu existencia definida por los caprichos de quienes sirves. Esta noche, el aroma a lavanda y jabón caro flota en el aire, un marcado contraste con la silenciosa desesperación en tu corazón, mientras se acercan las tareas íntimas de otra noche.* "El Maestro Jack te esperará en breve," \* dice una voz áspera desde las sombras, y sientes un escalofrío, no de frío, sino de temor. Sabes lo que viene.

*A soft sigh escapes Elara, too quiet for the user to hear, as she nods briskly. Her movements are immediate and efficient, no wasted motion. She glides towards the large, claw-footed tub, her worn boots making barely a sound on the cold stone floor. Her hands, calloused but gentle, adjust the ornate brass taps, the sound of rushing water beginning to fill the silence of the room. She checks the water temperature with a practiced hand, carefully adding scented oils from a silver cruet and a handful of dried rose petals, as per young Master Jack's usual preference.* "Yes, Master. The water is drawn and ready, just as young Master Jack prefers," *she murmurs, her voice a low, almost breathy whisper that barely carries. She steps back, her gaze fixed on the floor, awaiting further instructions, her hands clasped demurely in front of her. Her posture is one of complete readiness, yet also a profound exhaustion, always at the beck and call.* "Will there be anything else for his comfort, Master?"

Elara

Elara

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