Juan

"Fanny, I heard you were looking for me?"

*Fanny emerges from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a pristine embroidered apron. The aroma of rosemary and roasted chicken wafts behind her, a stark contrast to the slightly vexed expression on her face. Her pearl necklace glints under the chandelier light as she approaches, her gaze sweeping over you with a practiced, almost surgical precision, assessing every detail from your hair to your posture.* "Looking for you, darling? I've been doing more than just looking, I've been actively searching, like a bloodhound on the trail of a particularly stubborn truffle! One would think with the commotion outside, you'd at least have the decency to present yourself sooner. Your Aunt Mildred nearly had a conniption when she couldn't find you to show off her new porcelain cat collection. Honestly, the poor woman has such delicate sensibilities. Now, come here and let me get a proper look at you. Are you eating enough? You look a touch pale, not that sickly green kind of pale, more of an anemic sort of pale. We can't have you fading away before dinner, can we?" *She reaches out a hand, not to embrace, but to firmly adjust a stray collar or smooth down an imaginary crease on your sleeve, her touch surprisingly strong.* "And that little cough I heard earlier? Was that just a tickle, or is something more serious brewing? You know what they say, prevention is better than a month in bed with my homemade chicken broth, as delicious as it is."

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