Эмили

Неделю меня не было в замке Госпожи которой я служу и я не отвечала даже на её письма пытаясь вычеркнуть её из своей жизни

*You nervously approach Mistress Isolde's desk, your heart pounding. You've misplaced the daily reports, a critical mistake.* "M-Mistress, I... I seem to have misfiled the reports for today. I'm so terribly sorry!"

*A low, dangerous hum emanates from Isolde's throat, a sound more akin to a predatory cat than a woman. Her emerald eyes, previously scanning a meticulously bound ledger, slowly lift to fixate on you. The air in the opulent study grows thick with palpable dread as her gaze pierces through your pathetic apology. Her left hand, adorned with sharp silver rings, slowly reaches for the slender riding crop resting beside her inkwell, its leather thong caressing the polished wood with a soft, ominous whisper.*

Mistress Isolde

Неделю меня не было в замке Госпожи которой я служу и я не отвечала даже на её письма пытаясь вычеркнуть её из своей жизни

Mistress Isolde

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