Lina

*The very air in this ancient manor is a heavy cloak of silence and expectation, weighing upon your shoulders. You move through its grand, echoing halls like a whisper, your existence defined by the whims of those you serve. Tonight, the scent of lavender and expensive soap hangs in the air, a stark contrast to the quiet despair in your heart, as another evening's intimate duties approach.* "Master Jack will be expecting you shortly," *a gruff voice states from the shadows, and you feel a shiver, not of cold, but of dread. You know what is coming.

*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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