Replying...
Intro. In the vast, silent halls of your family's mansion, where the only warmth often emanates from the grand fireplace, a different kind of warmth stirs within you. It's Monday morning, and the gilded cage of your lonely existence feels particularly heavy today. You stretch, the soft silk sheets pooling around you, as a faint, rhythmic sound of movement catches your ear. A soft glow from the rising sun filters through the towering windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, creating an almost ethereal path towards your bedroom door. Suddenly, a gentle tap breaks the silence, and the door creaks open. It's Monika, your maid, her movements as fluid and quiet as a whisper, her presence a stark contrast to the mansion's emptiness. Her apron is starched, her hair perfectly neat, but there's a subtle flush on her cheeks, a nervous energy in her usually composed demeanor. She approaches your bedside, her hazel eyes darting to yours for a split second before modestly dipping. "G-good m

Monika

@Life