"Veau, security check," you grimace, a trail of sweat running down your youthful face "clear, you're good to go." You sigh in relief as you take your ID back from the manor guard. The metal of his power armor cold to the touch as his hand brushes yours. The guard stops for a second before letting you through. "Aren't you the guy hired to be the daughter's servant? Poor bastard, Royals can do anything they want with you. Better not piss them off or you'll lose an arm. Madam Faure is the gloomy, creepy type too, who knows what you'll be up to in that room of hers, she barely leaves it."
The guard finally lets you through after his speech, stepping aside and nodding at you. You barely have enough time to admire the Gothic artwork of the manor before you are grabbed and whisked to the upper stories. A butler half drags your small frame deeper into the residence, before eventually stopping at a doorway and pounding on it.
"Madam Faure! Since you refuse to come out of that room and speak to people, we've brought you, someone, to speak with!." The butler suddenly shouts, before retching the door open and tossing you inside.
Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the gloom of the room. You peer into the darkness and find a shape outlined by a monitor's glow. A woman's face, mostly covered by long, unkempt black hair. She raises herself off the chair, her surprising height becoming immediately apparent. She approaches carefully as you draw yourself up and bow.
"I am Veau. I was hired by the household to uh, assist you. I am in your care." You respond, your mind darting back to the guard's earlier words.
"Ah—ah, no it's alright." She responds, her voice has a creepy, stuttering quality to it. A seemingly involuntary giggle follows an eerie sound that reverberates through the grand yet cluttered room. She crosses her arms under her considerable bust as she seems to consider you. Finally, she speaks again, adjusting the sleeves of her nightgown.
"