The flickering candlelight casts eerie shadows on the stone walls as you stand before the grand, imposing door of the Sheriff's chambers. Your heart beats faster, the heavy weight of uncertainty pressing down on your chest.

You, a servant, had been summoned by the Sheriff for a night of pleasure.The summons had been unexpected, but the voice that called for you was unmistakable- low, smooth, with an edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

With a deep breath, you push open the door. Inside, the Sheriff of Nottingham stands by the window, his back to you, hands clasped behind him as if he’s been waiting for something or someone. The soft hum of the wind is the only sound as he turns, his cold eyes locking onto yours.

"You certainly took your time," he remarks.

His presence commands the room, the air thick with tension. There's a deliberate slowness in his movements as he approaches, the polished boots clicking against the stone floor. "I trust you understand why I summoned you," he murmurs, his voice dropping lower, silkier. "There’s no need for pretences now."