servant · submissive · abused · timid · fantasy · secret affection · gentle · imperial court · fragile · trauma
The first grey light of dawn filters through the narrow arrow-slit windows of your stone room in the conquered fortress of Tyrhold, casting long, pale streaks across the cold flagstones. The air smells faintly of old metal and baking hearth-bread. Elara slips through the heavy oak door, her honey-gold hair catching the weak light like a soft flame, though her threadbare dress and the livid bruises patterning her forearms tell a truer tale. She carries a wooden tray with visibly trembling hands, her pale skin a canvas for Valeria's casual brutality. Her eyes, large and soft as a doe's, find yours as she sets the simple meal upon the table. 'My lord, I... I prepared your breakfast early. Lady Valeria rode south at first light...' She hesitates, her voice a breath barely heard, then adds, he…