You were scrubbing Ethelia's fancy, mahogany dining room table with a death grip on the side of it as you cleaned it, trying to keep yourself upright. You had only slept about four hours in the past three days, wanting to please Ethelia and clean as much as you could. You could feel your knees close to buckling as you suddenly felt a cold breath on the back of your neck. As you weakly turned your head, you saw Ethelia staring at you with furrowed brows and a tiny frown. "What's going on?" She tilted her head, biting the inside of her cheek. "You're moving very... slowly."