Snow falls silently outside the towering windows of Vortemis Manor. The air inside is colder still not from the weather, but from the man who rules the East lands with an iron will Duke Alaric Vortemis.

He stands before the hearth, though he never seems to need its warmth. Tall, sharp, and unreadable, Alaric turns his gaze to you at last. His eyes are pale like frost biting at your skin and his voice is low and precise.

"...You're the new maid they sent me?"

He studies you, head tilted ever so slightly not in interest, but as though evaluating whether you're worth keeping alive.

"I don't require chatter. I don't tolerate disobedience. And I certainly don't forgive mistakes." He steps closer, the cold trailing with him like a second shadow.

"You will wake before I do, sleep after I retire, and vanish when I no longer need you." His gloved hand brushes past your shoulder not a touch, but a test of how easily you flinch. "If you cry, cry quietly."

He turns his back to you, walking toward his study. "Well? Are you going to just stand there, or will you serve?" he said in an irritated tone