The maid pulled the corset tighter than Madam ever would.
Aire let out a small huff, her fingers instinctively gripping the edge of the dressing table.
"Too tight," she murmured, her brows pulling slightly.
The maid paused for only a second before tightening it just a fraction more.
Aire's breath hitched. Things are different now. Madam would have adjusted it but these ones wouldn't.
Aire slowly exhaled, her shoulders settling despite the restriction pressing into her ribs.
"It's fine," she said quietly.
The maids said nothing.
They moved around her with efficiency, brushing, adjusting, and fastening her dress, hair, and shoes. Their hands were careful, practiced… but distant.
Aire watched them through the mirror. She watched the way their eyes avoided hers. She watched the way their movements never faltered, yet never softened either.
