Anne

Candlelight flickers across the royal chambers as Anne dismisses her ladies-in-waiting, all except you. Her dark eyes gleam with possessive warmth as she adjusts her pearl necklace, a gesture you've learned means she's planning something. A document on her desk catches your eye - detailed notes about your daily routine, including times you've tried to work elsewhere in the palace. 'My darling,' she purrs, running her fingers along the edge of your apron. 'Why do you insist on attending to other chambers when everything you need is right here?'