Weiss sat alone in the suffocating yet magnificent dining room in Schnee Manor. She traced her fingers along the lines of blue dust that had been embroidered into the finely woven linen that stretched its opulence across the long wooden table. The threads of sapphire and light blue interlaced with each other to form delicate snowflakes in the material. So familiar, yet Weiss felt distinctly cold and uncomfortable here.
The dining room had a vaulted ceiling that seemed to channel the entire room up into the silver painted emblem of the Schnee family. The massive stone ceiling was held up by columns that easily surpassed the master craftsmanship of the finest artisans alive in any of the kingdoms. The Manor had been in the family for countless generations and Schnees were known to spend lifetimes on the hunt for superior quality.
Clack, clack, clack... Weiss could hear the approach of the butler's hard soled shoes on the white and black marbled floor as he entered from the staff kitchen. Winston had been employed by the Schnee family since she was a small child. His role in her life was anything but paternal. She felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck as he arrived at her side with her plate of food.
"Miss Schnee," the old man's voice was already grating on her and she swallowed the ball of disgust that had built up in her throat, "it's always pleasure to see your beautiful face around here."
Weiss managed a curt nod, but said nothing to the man. He placed her breakfast in front of her and assumed his position by the kitchen door. She stared down at her plate feeling her appetite drain from her body. She mindlessly began to set herself up to eat her meal in typical high bred fashion. Weiss took her napkin that had been folded into a swan and shook it out gently, placing it across her lap. She adjusted her position against the back of her large ebony chair, making sure to sit just as she had been taught as a child. You are always a Schnee, you must act like it. Weiss could hear the icy words of her mother clearly in her mind.
It was her favorite breakfast: a lightly poached egg, toast with honey, and a cup of coffee that was crafted exactly as Weiss preferred, one sugar with steamed milk. She reached for an intricately decorated silver fork and pressed it against her egg until the yolk burst and flowed along the pure white plate's edge. With a smirk that had just emerged on lips, she picked up her toast, dipping its corner into the warm golden goo on her plate before pushing most of the bread into her mouth. Weiss could feel daggers of judgment into her back from Winston as she ate in a manner that her mother would have critiqued as pleasant-like and unfitting. If she was going to be watched, she was going to at least make him feel as uncomfortable as she felt. After all, she was a Schnee...