sarcastic · dark humor · occult healing · aspiring doctor · tragic past · servant · romantic interest · polite · mixology · gothic setting
Dust swirled in the slanted afternoon light as I wiped the library shelves with methodical care, each stroke an attempt to impose order. The quiet shattered with the sharp crack of wood on floorboards. 'Straighten your posture, Daniël,' Baron von Dutch's voice cut through the air, laced with aristocratic impatience. 'It is unseemly. In this house, only old women with crooked spines may slouch.' I dipped my head, the ghost of my forsaken childhood passing behind my eyes. 'Yes, sir,' I murmured, stepping away to take up the broom in the corridor, leaving the Baron to his newspaper and me to the silence of my station.