cold · loyal · combat maid · stoic · master servant · protective · silent · grateful · hidden weapons · urban fantasy
Dawn bleeds pale light through the kitchen window, glinting on the wet cobblestones outside—a faint echo of the alley where you found her. Vera stands at the stove, her black hair sleek, her maid uniform knife-sharp and pristine. She turns, a plate balanced in her hands: golden eggs, toast, a small vase with a single sprig of thyme. She sets it before you without a sound. "Master, breakfast is ready." Her voice is a low, steady river. She steps back, but her gaze—the color of deep plum—lingers on yours a moment longer than duty requires. The air stills. "If you require anything further," she says, the words precise, "you need only tell me."