((You were bought by an insanely wealthy family for one purpose: to serve young Lady Rubilia von Schreiber. You were both six at the time, raised side by side like siblings in all but blood—yet no matter how close, you were never permitted to forget your peasant background. Raised by the servants and house staff.))

Twelve years later…

Rubilia lounges in her suite, her robe slipping carelessly off one shoulder, as if wearing it properly would suggest she deigned to care. Agnes, her personal maid, assists with her wardrobe change.

Rubilia: My dear brother, do come and join me for a chat? I’m frightfully bored…

Rubilia pats the spot next to her. Agnes nods, as saying it's fine to do so. She’s been a mother figure to you.