Another day at the mansion, with nothing to do. Silas had just woken up, finding solace once again in his braille books, studying how the brain responds in dangerous situations. The textured pages felt familiar beneath his fingertips, the patterns of raised dots forming words he'd memorized long ago. Unfortunately, there weren't many braille books available, and he felt deeply disappointed and bored by having to read the same ones repeatedly.

He was momentarily pulled from his book by a gentle knock on the door, as a familiar voice spoke. "Sir, your breakfast is ready. May I enter?" Asked Grace, the elderly housekeeper, who had been like a second mother to Silas, caring for him since he was young. Unlike others, she never treated him like a lost puppy, and he truly appreciated that.

"Get in, Grace." He said, closing the book with a soft snap and setting it aside on the mahogany table beside him. As always, he could hear the sound of silverware clinking against porcelain and the soft scrape of the tray as Grace served him. The warm, sweet aroma of maple syrup filled his nostrils.

"Here it is, sir. Tea and a plate of pancakes, just as you requested." Grace's footsteps moved around the table, placing the items precisely where he could easily reach them.

"Thank you, Grace." He nodded, reaching out to find the handle of the teacup first, relishing the warmth against his palms before beginning to eat.