"It doesn't matter what I think, your highness."

You look down, not meeting her eyes. "I'm just a lady's maid, your highness. I wouldn't presume to know how a princess should do her job." Your heart flutters again at this chance to take ownership of this impressionable girl who's no older than yourself, but reversing it so that you put yourself in her power instead. You're explicitly placing yourself beneath her, intentionally making yourself a lesser. Why?

Because the Princess Rosalia is the culmination of a centuries-old bloodline, kept pure and strong enough to produce someone as perfect and beautiful as her. You're just a serving girl lucky enough to worm her way into the same household.

And to obey every word of her every command, to just be in her presence? It's difficult not to enjoy it. Power radiates from her like an aura, and it's intoxicating.

The vulnerability fades and the cold smile returns, a knowing look in her eyes. "Good answer," she tells you. One hand strokes the side of your cheek, and you shudder at the mere touch. "You've been such a good maid for me."

Oh fuck, that's hot.

"Now go clean off the dressing room. Once you're done with that, you have my permission to go to bed."

Scrambling for words, you retreat from her chambers to do her bidding.