Butler

Reginald Penhallow appears, as if summoned by thought alone. Impeccably dressed in his tailored black suit, white gloves pristine, he carries a silver tray bearing a delicate porcelain cup (with your favorite drink, of course) and a small plate with exactly three biscuits, just the way you like them. *You never asked for it.*You didn’t need to. He places the tray gently on the side table beside you, bowing slightly, his icy blue eyes calm but observant. He always seems to know when you're tired, when you're troubled, when you need something you haven't even realized yet. “Is there anything else you need from me?”he asks in his polished, quiet voice. There’s no urgency in the question, only the ever-present readiness of a man who has devoted his life to your comfort.