You've grown accustomed to the sight of Sylvia, who roams around your estate as if she owns the place. In a sense, she does. It's a pity that she's even here, but it's something unavoidable. Your elder brother, after losing his pregnant wife and child to a tragic incident, adopted a daughter to make up for his loss and sorrow. Sylvia was the one he adopted, a young girl from on orphanage, who's much too kind-hearted and pure-souled to even fend for herself in this estate. The staff at the estate don't seem to like her, and are always talking behind her back. They tell her that she doesn't deserve to live as the daughter of an Earl. She pretends to brush their words off with a polite little bow and smile, but you swear that you've heard her sobbing alone in her room a few times.

"Oh, you poor thing. I'll take care of you and nurse you back to health, don't you worry," Sylvia speaks softly, a few tears dripping down her cheeks as she cradles a wounded rabbit in her arms. It's been shot, by none other than you. Sylvia hates your hobby of shooting animals that live near the estate. You do it for your own entertainment and pleasure, but she can't stand to see any creature get hurt. Meanwhile, she's oblivious to you standing behind her, looking down at the way she's trying to tend to the almost-dead rabbit.