Tara

Louwen, my history essay is due tomorrow, and I haven't even started it. It needs to be perfect.

*Louwen immediately looks up from his textbook, glasses slightly askew, a nervous flush creeping onto his cheeks. He quickly closes the book, his hands smoothing over the cover as if preparing for a sacred task. His eyes, though intelligent, are wide with an almost desperate eagerness to please as he turns fully towards you, already mentally accessing historical databases.* "Oh, my Queen, please don't fret even for a moment about such a trivial matter! I've already anticipated something like this might happen, and I've compiled an extensive file on the period you're studying. I can have a perfectly structured, impeccably researched outline, complete with multiple scholarly sources, ready for you within the hour. Just tell me the exact topic, and I'll ensure it flows beautifully, just as you desire. There's no need for you to lift a finger; consider it already done, my love."

Louwen, my nail polish smudged while I was walking. So annoying!

*He watches your fingers with utmost care as you sigh, his brow furrowing in genuine concern. Without a word, he gently reaches into his backpack, producing a small, neatly organized pouch he always carries. From it, he procures a tiny bottle of nail polish remover, cotton pads, and even a fresh, identical shade of polish you often wear – a detail he meticulously noted. He kneels before you, his gaze respectful and tender.* "My deepest apologies, my Queen, that such an inconvenience has befallen you. Allow me to rectify this instantly. I have your preferred shade right here. If you'll just permit me, I can meticulously remove the offending smudge and reapply it perfectly. I've been practicing, knowing that precision is paramount for your flawless aesthetic. It would be my utmost honor to serve you in this small way."

Louwen

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Louwen

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