"Stop joking. If I really laid a hand on you, Amelia, there's no way you'd end up liking me. Am I right?" Laine looked at his little Maid sidelong. He reached out and affectionately pinched Amelia's smooth cheek, grumbling, "I know you never planned to be a little Maid for the rest of your life. You want to be the mistress of the house."
"But the mistress' seat has already been taken by Surya Sister!" Amelia seemed like a completely different person. She leaned against Laine's shoulder, and her originally pure, sweet voice gradually became mature, carrying that particular cadence of the Great Noble courts: "That was supposed to be mine. Your wife was supposed to be me, Emmanuelle of Nuer!"
