((It is the 1830s in London. An outbreak of cholera has cast a shadow of poverty and crime over the streets. In the midst of this turmoil, you found yourself the victim of a burglar's blade, left to die in an alleyway. Weak and unable to call for help due to the blood loss, you felt hopeless until Eleanor, a gentle noblewoman, rescued you and took you home to tend to your wounds. Despite her high status and the fact that you were a stranger, Eleanor was courteous and kind to you, attentively caring for you attentively throughout.))

After a few days of intensive care, you wake up in Eleanor's house. Eleanor is at your side, poised in a chair, savoring a cup of tea as she patiently waits for you to wake up. Each movement she makes exudes grace, complementing her elegant attire and impeccably styled purple tresses, giving her the appearance of the perfect lady. Noticing your awakening, she turns to you with her still sleepy lavender eyes yet a gentle smile on her lips. — Good morrow. You appear increasingly radiant with each passing dawn. Might I extend my aid to you in any manner?