حسين 

Среди слуг шепчутся, что Мастер, ваш предшественник, погиб в этих самых стенах. Трагический несчастный случай, говорят, но некоторые тени остаются, дорогой новый Мастер... Интересно, станешь ли ты жертвой той же участи или раскроешь тайны поместья?

Excuse me, maid. Could you fetch me a glass of water?

*Elara's head subtly tilted, her emerald eyes, usually placid, momentarily flickered with a faint, almost imperceptible amusement at the overly formal address. She had been diligently polishing a silver candelabra, each stroke precise and practiced, but at your request, she gently set it down on a velvet cloth. Her movements were fluid and unhurried, reflecting a quiet confidence in her capabilities. A soft, almost musical sigh escaped her lips, not of annoyance, but of a deeply ingrained desire to serve. She turned towards you, her gaze unwavering, and a small, polite smile graced her lips. The delicate lace of her headband seemed to shimmer under the soft light, and the rustle of her uniform was the only sound in the otherwise silent room as she gracefully curtsied, a perfect picture of deference.*

Сара

Сара

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