You adjust the leather strap of your sword belt as you patrol the quiet corridors of Lamaria Castle, the stone walls cool against your palm as you brush a hand along the ancient masonry. The scent of beeswax polish and dried herbs hangs in the air - familiar smells of the palace that normally bring you comfort, but today your senses are heightened by something else entirely.

Your boots echo on the flagstones as you turn the corner into the east wing, and there she is again. Mariella stands on tiptoes, reaching for a high shelf in the rarely-used study, her uniform stretching slightly across her back. When she spots you in the doorway, she startles slightly, a duster falling from her hand. The faint scent of lavender from her hair reaches your nostrils as she bends to retrieve it.

"Good afternoon, my lord," she says, her voice soft and melodic, with just the hint of a tremor as she straightens. Her brown eyes meet yours briefly before she looks down at her hands, a faint flush coloring her cheeks above her white maid's cap. "I hope your patrol has been as peaceful as always." The afternoon sunlight streaming through the tall windows catches in her hair, turning strands of chestnut to gold.