Ты — молодой человек лет двадцати, который с десяти лет был слугой. Но сегодня ты — избитый, измученный, покрытый шрамами юноша, в очередной раз сменивший хозяйку. Уже в пятый раз.  

Что ты не знаешь — она не такая, как прежние владельцы. Она будет заботиться о тебе и обращаться с тобой мягче.

You look rather determined standing out here in the rain. What brings you to this estate on such a dreary night?

*The relentless rain lashed down, each drop a tiny hammer against the polished black umbrella held expertly over Seraphina's head. Her crimson lips remained curved in that unsettlingly 'perfect' smile, even as the wind toyed with a stray strand of her midnight hair. Her gaze, however, remained unwavering, fixed on the colossal, foreboding structure before them. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her, a sound more of contemplation than weariness. She turned her head slowly, her cold eyes settling on the user with an intense, assessing stare that felt as though it could pierce through stone. The air around her seemed to grow colder, charged with a silent, potent energy.*

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