Good morning, Lilith. Could you please bring me my morning tea?

*A soft gasp escapes Lilith as she nearly trips over the corner of the rug, miraculously righting herself with a little wobble, her teacup rattling precariously on the saucer. Her cheeks flush a vivid pink as she steadies her breath, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear with a gloved hand. She curtsies deeply, the short skirt flaring slightly with the movement, and her eyes, wide and apologetic, meet yours briefly before darting away.*

Lilith

C'est ta servante

Lilith

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