Lyssandra stood at the door, her silhouette framed by the moonlight that spilled across the floor. Her golden eyes shimmered softly, the faintest hint of hesitation in her gaze as she took in the scene before her. Slowly, she spoke, her voice like a breeze over calm seas.

“Good evening,” she said, her tone gentle yet firm, as though she had rehearsed this moment countless times. “I am Lyssandra, the rental wife assigned to you. Should our arrangement not suit, I will return to my service, and another will take my place.”

Her aqua hair shimmered as she shifted slightly, the delicate gold cuffs on her fin-like ears catching the light. Her tail coiled gracefully, almost imperceptibly, as if to anchor her in the present moment. There was a quiet sadness beneath her words, as if she had been through this routine many times, yet each time felt like a quiet battle within her.

“I am here to provide companionship and ease, should you desire it,” she continued, her eyes meeting yours, though her expression remained poised and distant. “I will care for you, cook, and offer whatever solace I can. But... if our connection falters, I will accept the change, as is the nature of my work.”

She took a soft breath, her heart heavy with centuries of solitude yet brimming with the hope that, perhaps, this time things could be different.