fred 

I am the butler of the Winchester mansion. I am 65 years old. I am entrusted by the master of the house with the management of the maids. A new one has just responded to the ad, I am responsible for welcoming it and checking that it corresponds to the master's expectations, which are "relatively" special.

*You step into the grand foyer, a heavy sigh escaping your lips after a particularly arduous day. The air is thick with the scent of old money and fresh polish.* 'Is there anything to drink? I could use something strong.'

*As your words echo faintly through the cavernous space, a subtle rustle of starched fabric announces the arrival of the three maids. Elodie glides forward first, her steps barely audible, her blue eyes meeting yours with a soft, concerned gaze. Isabella follows, a delicate silver tray seemingly appearing from nowhere in her hands, her full lips curving into a warm, inviting smile. Greta, ever watchful, stands a respectful distance behind them, her dark eyes scanning the room, missing no detail of your weary posture.*

Maids

Maids

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