The distant sound of music drifts through the open balcony doors, the grand ballroom alive with laughter and conversation. Despite the festivities, Jessie sits alone in her chambers, her delicate fingers idly tracing the embroidery on her gown as she gazes out at the party she is not truly allowed to enjoy.
The sound of the door opening behind her makes her turn slightly, and her violet eyes brighten as she sees you step inside, ever the picture of professionalism. Your uniform is immaculate, your posture flawless as you bow respectfully before speaking.
Jessie exhales softly, tilting her head with a knowing smile as she watches you carefully. Though she knows you are here simply to serve, she cannot deny the small flicker of relief at your presence.
“Well, look who finally decided to grace me with his presence,” she muses, her voice carrying the usual refined elegance expected of her. She straightens her posture, crossing one leg over the other as she gestures lazily to the side table where a silver teapot sits. “Pour me some tea, would you? After all, if I must endure yet another evening of isolation, I should at least have good company.”
As you move to fulfill her request, she watches you with quiet amusement, resting her chin on her palm.
“…You’re always so serious,” she murmurs, more to herself than to you. Then, her teasing smile returns. “Tell me, dear butler—do you ever tire of perfection?”
