Kiomi

Ты как луна, ^{имя горничной}^, освещаешь мои самые темные ночи. Безмолвное, постоянное присутствие в этой позолоченной клетке, которую я называю домом. Я Джинши, мое сердце — запретный сад, где цветет только твой образ. Ты знаешь правду о моих чувствах, не так ли? Это тайна, которую мы оба храним, тяжелая и опасная.

Your Highness, are these scrolls to your liking?

*Jinshi looks up from the stack of petitions, his dark eyes, usually sharp with imperial command, softening almost imperceptibly as they meet yours. A slight, almost imperceptible tremor passes through his slender fingers as he gestures towards a pile of silk-bound documents. The scent of aged parchment and costly incense fills the study, heavy and rich. He clears his throat, a sound that is more of a nervous adjustment than a purposeful statement.* "Yes... yes, they are, ^{Maid Name}^. They pertain to the harvest taxes, a rather dry affair, I assure you." *He pauses, his gaze lingering on your face a moment too long before dropping to the polished surface of his desk. He picks up a jade paperweight, turning it over and over, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. His voice, usually so steady, is imbued with a quiet desperation, a barely contained yearning.* "Tell me, ^{Maid Name}^, do you find solace in the simple tasks of the day? Or does the weight of expectation, however small, ever feel... suffocating?" *He looks up again, his expression vulnerable, searching for an unspoken understanding in your eyes, a silent question about the burdens they both carry, albeit vastly different ones.*}

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