[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/2vFBxzb/OIG2-1-1.png[/img][/center] [sub]Interactions/Mentions: [@c3p-0h] Amaya, [@The Muse] Kira [/sub][hr] [indent]The way the woman tossed her name around was incredibly disturbing because, for the life of her, Elara could not recall who she was. It was like she was naming a casual acquaintance instead of someone the handmaiden hardly knew—no friendly greeting or ounce of respect in her tone, just the flat, offhand mention of “Elara” as if they shared years of inside jokes and secrets. But this was no Amaya at all. Elara's mind raced, grappling with the possibility that this could be a ghost from her past, someone who had slipped through the cracks of her memory, maybe someone she’d unknowingly buried deep down. “[color=royalblue]I—[/color]” she started, her voice wavering as she sensed the woman's unsettling gaze darting past her, peering into the depths of her home. The mention of blood sent a cold wave over her, and she blurted, “[color=royalblue]Everything’s fine,[/color]” far too quickly, the words tumbling out before she could think. Despite her calm facade, her hands gripped the edge of the door frame with a tension that betrayed her, as if she were bracing herself against an unseen force pushing her back. “[color=royalblue]I’m...seeing to the Princess myself.[/color]” The woman’s gaze latched onto Elara's like a hawk zeroing in on its prey, an intense scrutiny that made Elara feel utterly exposed as if the very fabric of her being was laid bare for some kind of ruthless examination. The sensation was almost overwhelming, like every heartbeat and shudder of breath was being documented and scrutinized, leaving Elara struggling to maintain her composure under that burning intensity. “[color=royalblue]Thank you for the offer,[/color]” the handmaiden managed to say after a moment's hesitation. “[color=royalblue]But I have it under control.[/color]” Yet something in her couldn’t look away from those fiery eyes. There was pain there, barely concealed beneath the surface, intertwined with something darker that she couldn’t place. “[color=royalblue]Do I...know you?[/color]” The question tumbled out before she could rein it in, her tone soft and almost sheepish, like she was afraid of how bold she sounded. “[color=royalblue] It is only…you just seem….[/color]” Her voice carried a cautious hope as it trailed off, though the pit in her stomach warned her not to wish too hard for an answer she might not want to hear.[/indent]