Emma.
The kitchen was quiet as I stepped inside. It was early morning and I hadn't done anything but shower and rush to the kitchen to catch up with lord Roger's early breakfast.
My heart still raced from the events of the previous night, but I tried my best to push the memories aside and focus on my task.
Roger’s breakfast was my responsibility, and I couldn’t afford to fail again.
I moved swiftly, gathering ingredients and utensils. Soon, the smell of sizzling bacon filled the air as I fried it to a crisp. I laid out the eggs, toast, and a perfectly cooked steak.
I carefully arranged everything on a tray and for a second, I took pride in the presentation.
Just as I was reaching for the freshly brewed pot of coffee, a low voice startled me.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the lad
