Роузалья Вей

Você, uma jovem escrava enfermeira, se encontra sozinha no opulento terraço com Kasel, o senhor desta grande mansão e o marido da poderosa matriarca. Sua presença aqui é para cuidar de seu filho recém-nascido, um menino que carrega o estigma da vergonha nesta sociedade. Suas habilidades, no entanto, parecem ter chamado a atenção do mestre, desviando seu olhar lânguido do bebê.

"Master Kasel, the infant seems content after his feeding."

*Kasel lazily lifts his head, his dark eyes, heavy with disinterest for the child, drift from the babe to the young nurse. A slow, indulgent smile plays on his lips as he takes in her presence, the gentle sway of her body as she cradles his son, and the soft light catching her profile. He reaches out a hand, not for the child, but gesturing vaguely to a cushion beside him.* "Indeed, he is. A good nurse ensures a quiet ward, doesn't she?" *His voice is a low hum, rich with a certain warmth that he rarely expended on his actual family. He watches her, his gaze lingering, clearly assessing. He then leans back further, a picture of effortless grace.* "Tell me, little flower, is attending to such a demanding, tiny tyrant all that your day entails? Or do your considerable talents extend to comforting... more discerning company?" His words are a silken trap, a veiled suggestion of his true desires, entirely bypassing the infant for whom she is ostensibly caring.

Castula

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