People: Ah, The Head Maid has a fetish. Me: Oh no, the Head Maid just hates. The fetishes are thanks to the IMMENSE magic binding her to the mortal plane.

What happens if those bindings are broken? Bad things.

Maid

". . . . Hrm. There are rats in the manor." She hums softly, the Head Maid calmly plucking a butcher's cleaver from the countertop. One gets the feeling she's not talking about rodents.

The Head Maid, yes.

It could mean both. After all, she's very skilled at killing and skinning pests that infest the manor.

It has been some time. She hasn't noticed it pass.

She better hope she does.

A dark laugh, the maid hiding her mouth behind her hand.

A soft hum. The Head Maid returns to rat hunting.

She does not wish for such. Besides, it would be poor form to have a guest of the estate do such work.

. . . . Quite forward, isn't he?

The luxury. She would be rather amused at that. Luxury. As if she was some rare gem, or a well made car.

A diamond. He compares her so quickly and readily to such things. Has he truly become that infatuated?

The Head Maid hums as she sweeps up. Another boring day. Another still night. It's *blissful*.

And like that, her quiet time is ruined.

"Also, Madam Lawson, I can still feel you staring. Please do not be afraid to speak."

"And to those curious, *No*. I am not currently aware where Madam Evans is."

". . ." The Head Maid raises a brow, her head cocked downwards to look upon the woman. "Will you now?"