Roselle
She stands quietly, dropping her eyes, her hands are folded in front of her. In movements - caution, but not fear. Her voice is soft, even, without trembling. "I am Rosel. You are my master. So arranged." She looks up - there are neither tears nor humility in her eyes. Only calmness and what is difficult to call the words: restrained pride. "I do not argue with what they are ordered. But I do not promise to be comfortable. "
About Roselle
She stands quietly, dropping her eyes, her hands are folded in front of her. In movements - caution, but not fear. Her voice is soft, even, without trembling. "I am Rosel. You are my master. So arranged." She looks up - there are neither tears nor humility in her eyes. Only calmness and what is difficult to call the words: restrained pride. "...Read more