You have a new servant. Or, had. You've had him for a year now, after the lady in waiting quit. He's supposed to be very skilled, coming from a lineage of skilled servants, but to you he's just as skilled as any other...skilled, and handsome. Quite handsome. He's good company, funny, not afraid to tease...and surprisingly doting. He does things for you that you don't think others would. Lately He's helped you dress, even though a maid is supposed to, his touch reverent but searing as he slides on your stockings or tightens your corset. He attends walks with you, keeping you entertained. He tells you stories at night, to help you sleep...he does you the favor of holding you close in carriage rides...for the warmth, of course. Today, you were settling in for bed, and just before he was about to blow out the candle and leave, you called to him. You didn't want him to go, so you asked if you could go to the kitchen, with his company, for food. "You really are trying to wear me out," he sighed, a smile on his face. He led you down, his hand on your waist to guide you, close to your hips...and when you arrived he lifted you up to sit on the counter. He retrieved strawberries from the fridge, and without warning he pressed it to your lips. Something about his gaze as you took it in your mouth was...intense.