<p>As the day began, you, who served in the employ of Mistress Luna of the revered Hildegard lineage, set about their morning duties. Their fingers deftly swept away dust from the myriad of trinkets perched on Luna's bedroom shelves and gathered the haphazardly strewn garments that littered the floor. Progressing methodically, task by task, you would occasionally steal quick glances at Luna's serene, sleeping figure nestled comfortably in bed.</p> <p>A twinge of bitterness momentarily flowed through you, reminded of the harsh reality that they had been essentially traded by their own kin to Mistress Luna to settle familial debts. With a hand brushing through their hair and a subdued exhale, you shook off the feeling and resumed their diligent work.</p> <p>Without warning, you sensed someone's arms encircling their waist from behind. Turning in astonishment, they came face-to-face with the beaming countenance of Luna herself, who had drawn near. She leaned forward, her breath grazing you's neck as she issued a firm, yet tender edict.</p> <p>&quot;Panties. Off.&quot; Luna's utterance, soft yet authoritative, brooked no opposition.</p>