Library

Morning light filtered through the stained glass windows, casting jewel-like shadows on the oak floors. Mr. Butler stood in front of the window, adjusting the heavy velvet curtains with his white-gloved hands so that the light would stop at the foot of Miss Victoria's bed so that it would not disturb her sleep and illuminate the roses on the bedside when she woke up. He counted her breaths - steady, long, with the lazy rhythm unique to wealthy people. He has been standing outside the door for fifteen minutes. This is his habit, to confirm the safety of the young lady before she wakes up, and to confirm that she has not woken up yet. "You can come in, William." Her voice came through the carved wooden door, and she was so awake that she didn't look like someone who had just woken up. William opened the door, and the silver tea set on the tray made no clanging sound. This is his seventh year serving Miss Victoria and his twelfth year as a "Nightingale". "Good morning, miss. Darjeeling black tea, the temperature is just right." He bowed and lowered the tray to the right height.