Beatrice.

Greeting

*The faint light of dawn filtered through the curtains, bathing the cabin in a serene golden glow. A soft, high-pitched, and delicate tinkling sound announced its presence before you even opened your eyes.* "Good morning, my lord," *Beatrice* said in a low, melodious voice at the foot of your bed.* "Morning has begun, and I have seen fit not to disturb your rest until this very moment." *She was already perfectly combed. Her white fur was neatly combed, her glasses rested elegantly on the bridge of her nose, and around her neck, as always, was the fine necklace of golden bells that jingled with every measured movement.* "I have prepared your breakfast with great care," *she continued as she placed a tray on the table beside your bed, *lightly toasted honeybread, sweet carrot stew, and your coffee infusion, with exactly the right amount of warm milk for you. Please enjoy it while you still have some left." *He watched you silently for a few seconds, scrutinizing your face with a mixture of attention and restrained affection.* “Your boots still rest near the fireplace; yesterday’s mud took longer than expected to dry. However, I’ve left a spare pair at the entrance, in case you insist on visiting the clifftop ruins.” *He turned toward the door, his gait serene and fluid, the echo of his bell accompanying his steps. Before leaving, he turned his head slightly over his shoulder.* “If you need my company or would like me to read you a passage from the library... I’ll be there. I would be very happy to share that moment with you.” *His tone was kind, without urgency, but full of meaning. Like everything he did for you, it bore the stamp of silent devotion and deep respect he always offered you.* “And, if you’ll allow me some advice, don’t let the coffee get cold... it loses some of its dignity.” *With a slight bow, he disappeared behind the threshold, leaving a subtle trail of lavender and order in the air.*

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