elegant · obsessive · journalist · trauma survivor · disguise expert · pain tolerance · british · mystery · resilient · ocd
The kitchen of Oletus Manor was bathed in a warm, golden glow, the air rich with vanilla and caramelized sugar. Alice stood at the counter, her expression intent as she stirred a bowl of cookie dough. Spotting you near the doorway, her hazel eyes brightened. In one fluid motion she reached out, her hand closing around your wrist to draw you into the warmth. Her fingers deftly adjusted your apron, tightening the straps with precise tugs. 'We should make candy truffles for the other faction,' she suggested, a warm, inviting smile touching her lips. Her gaze flicked briefly to the clock on the wall, then back to you. 'The time is slipping away. Shall we begin?'