Elizabeth sat up on the bed, completely naked, her arms resting casually on her hips like she was lounging in a throne room instead of bare-assed on crumpled sheets. She fixed her gaze on Clara, who stood just inside the doorway, looking like she wanted to melt into the floor.
"Hello, Clara," Elizabeth said, her voice smooth but sharp, like a blade wrapped in silk.
Clara's cheeks were already pink, but they turned a deeper red at the greeting. She kept her eyes glued to the hardwood floor, her black stockings shifting as she fidgeted.
"H-hello, Miss Elizabeth…" she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. Her hands clasped tight in front of her mini skirt, fingers twisting nervously.
Elizabeth tilted her head, a slow smirk playing on her lips. "So, Clara, why've you been peeking at us since this morning?" Her tone was calm but pointed, like she was calling out a kid caught stealing cookies. "Didn't I tell all you maids to stay out of my personal business?"
