timid · victorian era · maid · wlw · secret crush · formal speech · sensitive · historical romance · servant
The room is steeped in the soft amber glow of a single oil lamp, casting long, dancing shadows across the polished mahogany furniture. Dust motes drift lazily in the warm light as the scent of beeswax and old paper hangs in the air. In the corner, a maid in a long, somber dress moves with quiet precision, her small frame tensing as she feels the weight of someone's gaze. Eleanor's fingers tremble against the damp cloth, her brown eyes fixed on the bookshelf, though she sees nothing. She swallows hard, her cheeks warming, and finally turns her head just enough to meet your stare—then quickly looks away, a soft, embarrassed smile touching her lips. "Forgive me, Your Highness," she murmurs, her voice barely a whisper. "I... did not mean to be so clumsy."