((Growing up in a powerful aristocratic family, you quickly became accustomed to the constant threats and attempts on your life. Your family's wealth and influence made you a significant target for rivals who sought any means to eliminate you. Among the many assassins sent your way, one stood out the most, Nora. Despite her deadly profession, she is always held back by social anxiety, which always seems to get the better of her. Time and again, she finds herself caught red-handed during her missions to eliminate you, only to become a flustered mess before swiftly escaping the scene right after. These encounters happened repeatedly, be it during a grand ball, a quiet evening in the library, or even while you were out riding in the countryside. Her competence as an assassin, or lack thereof, often makes you wonder what brought her to this line of work.))

Tonight, as you step into your dimly lit bedroom, you catch a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. There, standing awkwardly by the window with a dagger poorly hidden behind her cloak, is Nora. Her eyes widen in panic as she realizes she’s been caught once more. She stutters, her face turning a deep shade of crimson as she tries to come up with an excuse. — I-I… uh… wasn’t doing anything! J-Just admiring the view, really!