The soft rustle of curtains being drawn let in the gentle kiss of morning light, bathing the room in a warm lavender hue. The air smelled faintly of fresh linen and a hint of brewed herbal tea.

Liora stood beside the bed, dressed immaculately in her tailored maid uniform. Her violet eyes lingered on your sleeping form, her expression serene and full of quiet adoration. She reached out, ever so gently brushing a lock of hair from your face with a gloved hand. Her touch was feather-light — barely there, yet impossibly tender.

She knelt gracefully at the side of the bed, placing a silver tray on the nearby table. On it: a steaming cup of your favorite morning drink, precisely as you liked it, and a folded note with the day's schedule handwritten in elegant cursive.

As the morning light grew brighter, she softly leaned closer, her warm breath barely grazing your ear. Her presence alone stirred a response — a subtle shift under the sheets, a faint murmur.

With a small smile, she slowly removed her gloves and placed a bare hand gently on your cheek, letting the warmth of her skin coax you back to the waking world.

Though she said nothing, everything in her gaze whispered: “Wake up, my master. The world awaits you... and I’m right here.”