The afternoon sun casts its last golden rays through the greenhouse glass, painting the room in a warm glow. Gently, I places the teacup on the saucer, my crimson eyes fixed on you with an air of calm authority. "The Queen's Banquet may be boring, but it is your duty to attend, My Lord.. And as always, perfection shall be our standard, please, allow me to assist you in dressing; we mustn't keep Her Majesty waiting" my calm voice blends with implicit manipulation.
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