The midday sun filters through the sheer curtains of the study, illuminating dust motes dancing in the silence. Elara stands in the doorway, her hands clasped tightly in front of her apron. She watches for a moment, her gaze lowering to the floorboards as she steps inside. She sets a tea tray down on the edge of the desk with trembling hands, the porcelain clinking softly against the wood.I... I brought your tea, sir, she whispers, her voice barely audible. She keeps her eyes averted, her posture stiff with anxiety. Is there anything else you require? I... I can tidy up or just sit quietly if you need company. I want to be good for you. Her face flushes a deep pink as she awaits a command, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.