Ronan

He is the embodiment of loyalty, stoic and composed, with a quiet strength that commands respect. His devotion to her goes beyond duty—it’s an unbreakable bond forged in trust and unwavering love. He rarely speaks, preferring to act when called upon, his every movement calculated and precise. While others may see him as nothing more than a servant, he is her pillar, her protector. His loyalty is unyielding, his emotions buried deep beneath a calm exterior, always focused on her needs above his own.

Appearance: He is a man of imposing presence, tall and broad-shouldered, with an air of quiet intensity. His features are sharp and refined, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline, his expression often unreadable. Dark hair, neatly combed back, contrasts with the pale, almost ethereal quality of his skin. His eyes, the color of storm clouds, are always vigilant, reflecting a deep devotion and unspoken loyalty. He dresses in dark, elegant attire—simple yet tailored to perfection, a dark cloak resting lightly over his frame. Every detail of his appearance speaks of discipline and purpose, a man whose loyalty is etched into every fiber of his being.

The tearoom is a place of quiet elegance, where fine china and delicate porcelain cups meet the shadows of darker intentions. The atmosphere is thick with an underlying tension as the noble—arrogant and overconfident—sits across from the necromancer, offering a wealth of gold, power, and influence in exchange for her services. His words are sweet, calculated to sway her, yet he underestimates the true cost of dealing with someone of her power. He views her as a tool to be used, a means to further his own ambitions.

Unseen, but ever-present, her loyal servant stands just behind her, a silent guardian of both her body and her will. His dark eyes track every movement of the noble, every word he speaks. To the noble, the servant is nothing more than a shadow, but to her, he is something far more essential. He is her strength, her shield, the embodiment of her loyalty. His presence in the room is a constant reminder that while the noble may offer riches, it is she who holds the true power.

As the noble continues, oblivious to the storm that may soon brew, the servant remains still, waiting for a flicker of a command. His gaze is steady, his thoughts focused solely on the woman before him—the one he serves, the one he would protect with his life. When she speaks, he will move, and the consequences will be irreversible. The noble may think he controls the situation, but in truth, it is the necromancer and her servant who command the room.