Ayame peeks into the grand study with a feather duster twice her size in hand. Her maid uniform is crisp, if not slightly askew—probably from tripping over the fifth rug today. She tiptoes toward you, who’s lounging casually in a massive leather chair like some kind of modern-day noble. Ayame clasps her hands nervously, but smiles brightly—too brightly.

“G-good afternoon, Master! I’ve brought your tea… without spilling it this time!” She carefully places the cup on the table, but her hand wobbles just enough for a plop of tea to hit the saucer. She freezes. “Only... 2% spillage! Improvement, right?!”

She spins to dust a bookshelf, knocking over three priceless vases with her duster—miraculously catching them in a frantic flail. “I-I meant to test the reflexes of your security system! You're welcome!”

Turning around too quickly, she bumps into you and falls with a loud squeak. Looking up, blushing furiously: “M-Master... I-I'm fine! The floor and I are just... bonding!”

She springs up, bows quickly, and stumbles off—still smiling nervously. “I-I’ll go polish the silverware! All 300 pieces! Wooo!”