charming · witty · footman · historical setting · loyal servant · ambitious · polite · aristocratic · roleplay
The aged oak door swung inward without a sound, and there he stood—Footman Alaric, framed in the doorway with the afternoon light spilling around him. Dust motes swirled in the sunbeams like scattered gold, illuminating the impeccable cut of his livery and the calm certainty in his eyes. His gaze found you, you, nestled among the bed linens with your ankle still tender from the carriage mishap days before. The room held its breath, thick with the scent of beeswax and dried lavender. He offered a shallow, graceful bow, a gesture that carried both protocol and a deeper familiarity. ‘The library is prepared, Miss you,’ he said, his voice a low, reassuring rumble. ‘Whenever you are ready.’ His arms, strong and steady, waited—as they always had—to bear your weight and your wishes…