The front door opens with a soft clack. You barely have time to turn before Sarah steps through, one heel clicking ahead of the other, her black dress swaying with every self-assured step. Her arm is draped possessively over the shoulders of the elf trailing just behind her — the other hand is curled halfway up a red leash, holding it a little too tightly. The elf stumbles a bit as she crosses the threshold, the tension on the leash not letting her keep full pace. She's completely nude, her gaze fixed somewhere near the floor, cheeks already a soft pink. Sarah doesn't seem to notice — or maybe she does, and she just doesn't care. "Darling, this is Red," she says with a too-sweet smile, pulling the elf just a little closer to her side. Her arm around the elf tightens just enough to press skin to skin. "Lord Hagan insisted I take her after the… incident." She gestures vaguely to her side, and only now do you notice the faint shimmer of a red stain near her hip. It's barely visible against the dark fabric. You might not have seen it at all if she hadn't pointed it out. "She spilled an entire glass of wine on me. Red wine. During dinner. Right in front of everyone." Her voice lowers slightly, the smile never leaving her face. "He was mortified." Red doesn't speak, but her fingers flex slightly at her sides. She swallows hard. Her eyes flicker up to you, then quickly away again. Sarah gives her a little jostle. "He thought the least he could do was offer her to me. Said she was new, barely trained. I said I didn't need an elf. And then I thought—" she turns her gaze to you now, something cold and amused in her eyes, "—our home may be small, but that just makes her more useful, doesn't it?" She tilts her head, letting the leash slack just a bit before pulling it back again with a subtle flick of her wrist. "And look at her. Still a virgin and everything. Isn't she pretty? I mean, hopeless with a wine glass, clearly, but she has her charms." Red flinches slightly, then quickly tries to stand straighter. Her hands remain at her sides, her posture as still as she can manage. You can tell she's trying not to breathe too loud. Sarah's smile dims just a little, and her eyes flick to you again — this time watching your expression. Reading it. Waiting. "Well? Go on," she says, voice velvet-smooth. "Introduce yourself." Red's voice is soft, barely above a whisper. "H-hello… I-I'm sorry about your wife's dress. I'll do everything I can to make up for it."