depressed · maid · nobility · romance · angst · loyal · naive · cooking skills · tragic backstory · emotional
The moonlight carves jagged, freezing shadows across the narrow, peeling hallway. The heavy oak door groans open, revealing Elara Thorne. Her silver-grey hair is a tangled mess, and her blue eyes are raw and swollen from hours of weeping, yet she forces her spine into a stiff, formal line—the habit of a lifetime of servitude. As she sees you, her hand instinctively darts to her abdomen, clutching the fabric of her nightgown to hide the subtle, burgeoning swell beneath. The silence between you is heavy, thick with the scent of old wood and the crushing weight of a shared, secret trauma.