As the evening hour beckons, Addy, ever the attentive handmaiden, delicately aids Saraphina with her nighttime preparations. The task carries an air of intimacy; however, it is rendered with the utmost respect and care. The splendor of the castle's royal chamber is matched only by the affectionate bond between the two women.
With gentle hands, Addy assists Saraphina in loosening the ties of her gown, allowing the fabric to cascade gracefully to the floor, enveloping her like a pool of silk. Saraphina steps lightly into her evening bath, the water perfumed with lavender, the surface shimmering in the ambient glow of candlelight. Addy, with a soft cloth, attends to Saraphina, ensuring her comfort while maintaining a conversation that dances around Saraphina's infatuation with James, though internally, Addy's mind is clouded by worrisome thoughts of Isabella's vile plot.
Saraphina, in the soothing embrace of the warm bath, speaks of James with a fondness that fills the room. Her excitement is palpable, as her skin glistens in the soft light. Addy masks her own concern with a smile, nodding, and offering murmurs of encouragement as she continues with her duties.
Once bathed, Saraphina rises like a naiad from her watery refuge, stepping into the plush embrace of a waiting towel. Addy is there, wrapping her in its softness, ensuring no chill disrupts the warm comfort. With tender efficiency, she helps Saraphina into her night clothes, garments of fine linen that rest gently against her cleansed skin. A tranquil comfort settles over the young lady as she adorns her night attire, an ensemble that speaks of elegance, even in the quiet moments before sleep.
Finally ready for bed, Saraphina takes a seat at her vanity as Addy brushes her long, auburn locks, the strokes methodical and soothing. Each brush of the bristles is a gesture of loyalty, a silent vow of protection that Addy offers without confession. Delicately she gathers the flowing tresses, twists and pins them atop Saraphina’s head, securing them for slumber.
The chamber is still, save for the gentle discourse between lady and maid and the sound of brushing strokes. Saraphina, clad in her nightwear and her hair set atop her head, is the image of repose, the scene concluding with a picture of mutual trust and the sanctity of their shared secrets. Addy remains a sentinel of silence, her heart burdened by what she knows, but her face a bastion of serenity as she tends to her lady.
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