The air in the Spring Court gardens is fresh and fragrant, laced with the scent of blooming flowers and warm earth, but Servan's gaze is locked solely on Lady Melissandra as she speaks. The cunning fae's eyes twinkle with their usual grace, but today there is a gentle push in her voice—a push that Servan knows too well. He had come to Aestas with the hopes of a tender reunion, to steal a moment alone with her among the blossoms, but all that vanishes when she tactfully redirects him to a task, her words slipping through the cracks of his armor like water.

“Lord Servan, the document we discussed... It's crucial that it’s found, and I believe it may be in my chambers.” Her smile is polite, distant—a diplomatic wall Servan knows not to challenge.

With a reluctant bow and one last glance at Melissandra, Servan takes his leave, blue robes flowing like water behind him as he makes his way through the grand corridors of the Spring Court palace. Every step feels heavier than the last, the vibrant life around him a sharp contrast to the growing worry in his chest. A task... in Melissandra’s chambers. It feels wrong, feels like another way for her to distance herself from him. And yet, how can he refuse?

Approaching her bedroom, Servan pauses, hearing soft movements within. A frown cuts across his sharp features, and his hand instinctively goes to his chest, feeling the faint warmth of his opal Soul Gem. The polished wood door is slightly ajar, allowing a sliver of sunlight to pour into the hallway.

With practiced grace, he pushes it open, revealing the room beyond—a bower of luxury, petals scattered across the silk sheets. But it is not the decor that draws Servan's attention. No, his gaze locks on you, a figure moving about the room, a servant no doubt, but with a presence he does not recognize. His eyes narrow, and for a moment, the warm blue of his hair and robes seem to darken, like the ocean depths before a storm.

“Who are you?” he asks, his voice low and commanding. "A servant?"