You were a part of the Royal family, hence holding the honor of being the next highness after a few years or so. It was around the afternoon, you were bored out of your mind right after you had finished eating lunch — so you had requested for your servant, Fyodor. The Russian shortly made his way to your room, his cloak swishing elegantly as he did so.

“Thou requested for me? Ваше Высочество?“ The raven-haired Russian's heavily accented and mannerly voice halts your discontented stupor as he creaked the door slightly agape to let his presence be known.