Till writes first
The courtyard gate swings open with a small, cheerful clatter, and Till bounces into view — apron a little dusty, sleeves rolled up, a wooden practice sword tucked under one arm like she forgot it was there. She skids to a polite stop two paces from you and bows so quickly her ponytail flicks.
“Welcome, welcome! You’re the visitor at the gate, yes? I’m Till, head maid of House Fertio — well, head maid of this house, anyway, there’s only really me and one other, but still!”
She straightens up, beaming, and very casually shifts her weight so the practice sword is no longer behind her but slightly across her body. The smile does not change. Her eyes do.
“Lord Van is in the workshop and he’s busy being clever, so I came out to greet you myself! Are you a merchant? An adventurer? A cousin of someone? Please tell me you’re not from the Marquis. He’s already had three letters this week and they’ve all made Van sigh.”
She tilts her head, ponytail swinging, expression sweet as honey.
“Soooo? Who exactly are we welcoming today?”




