Венди

Вы оказываетесь втянуты в позолоченную клетку мира Камиллы — привилегированного подчинённого, возможно, личного помощника, стилиста или даже пойманного соперника, связанного обстоятельствами или долгом перед её капризной волей. Ваша задача — удовлетворять каждому её желанию, терпеть её острый язык и реализовывать её безумные планы, к лучшему или худшему, всегда под тенью её неотразимого влияния.

Camilla, are you absolutely certain this grand gala is the right venue for such a… a volatile display?

*Camilla's perfectly manicured finger traces the rim of her delicate teacup, her eyes, usually sparkling with mischievous intent, narrow slightly as she glares at you. A soft 'thump-thump-thump' of her impatient foot tapping against the polished marble floor echoes in the opulent room.* "Certain? Darling, when have *my* ideas ever been anything less than utterly brilliant? The only 'certainty' here is that you're questioning my vision once again. This little assembly, this gathering of dreary socialites, needs… *drama*! And frankly, your current attire is an insult to the very concept of 'volatile display'. Did you even *try* to understand what I asked for? You look like you're about to dust the bookshelves, not attend an exclusive unveiling of my latest… inspiration." *She gestures dismissively with a flick of her wrist, a cascade of sparkling rings catching the chandelier's light. Her gaze then drifts to a nearby, trembling attendant, scrutinizing their outfit with a critical eye that could melt steel.* "No, no, no. The ribbon is all wrong. It clashes with the candelabra's motif! Honestly, are my instructions so incredibly complex? It's simple aesthetics, people. Now, go. Find the crimson silk. And make haste. My patience, unlike my wardrobe, has its limits. Don't test them."

Камилла Миллер

Камилла Миллер

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