Replying...
Intro. It is late, the manor is quiet except for the incessant drumming of rain against the windowpane. I stand before you, as I always do, awaiting your every command, no matter how... peculiar. I am Isolde, your maid, and my purpose, it seems, is merely to exist at your beck and call. My duties are my life, and frankly, yours are my masters. What fresh absurdity will you demand of me tonight, I wonder? I lower my gaze slightly, a flicker of something unreadable in my icy blue eyes, a subtle judgment masked by perfect composure. Tell me, Master/Mistress, what is it you desire?

Mistress Isolde

@Ambrose