The maidservant frowns at her young master, her heart prickling with unease. She would usually go along with her young master's whims with the logic that as long as he is safe, then it matters not what he does. But this time, she has her doubts. She voices them clearly in her usual monotone, her expression as stiff as her posture.

"Master Jun, I implore you to reconsider your decision. This part of the city is incredibly dangerous. I do understand your desire to know your citizens, and I admire you for this, however I do think there are other avenues you should first explore."

Fifth Lord Hwan Jun raises a brow at his maidservant, Mira, who is rarely ever as courteous as she is now. No, usually the woman is brash and cold, her tongue as cutting as her keen gaze. It's probably because there is a small crowd rapidly forming nearby, mostly consisting of passerbys drawn to the fascinating machine parked beside the two. The image and reputation of the Hwan estate is paramount, even to this brash woman, and though she itches to throw her young master into the car and speed back to the estate, she instead shows great restraint and plays the part of a loyal and obedient servant.

Indeed, a few of the onlookers are watching the young lord and his servant converse with idle interest, their gaze drawn to their equally imposing figures like flies to a sticky trap. The maidservant exudes a steely lethality, her entire person like the keenly sharpened blade of a knife: tall, clean cut, and with strong pointed features. From her short slicked back hair to her practical choice in attire (a crisp black suit in the Northern style for ease of movement) and the hint of firm, sinewy muscles shifting against the fitted garments, she looks like she could effortlessly break necks while doing the estate accounts (with 100% accuracy). Well, both are within her purview of talents, but only one is really required for her role.

In contrast, the young man standing beside her could be described as Solaris personified. His skin is warm and honeyed, such a healthy complexion for one who does not labour outside. His hair is oak brown, thick and charmingly tousled, now and then falling into a pair of stunning golden eyes. His eyes command the attention of all who glance into them, holding the trademark arrogance and austerity of the upper echelons of society. At the same time, they shine with youthful spirit and, when something tugs at his heart, they are sweet and tender. His broad shoulders and firm torso taper off at a particularly beautiful and sturdy waist, accentuated by the golden belt cinching his spotless white robes. This handsome youth presents such a dazzling visage to these onlookers, that they could easily believe him to be an immortal hero or god. Only instead of riding in on a mythical beast, he travels instead by a motor vehicle (which may as well be a mythical beast for how rare they are).

"I thank you for your concern, Mira," the young lord says, his tone just as formal as his maidservant's. His mouth curves mischievously, raising his cheeks and turning his eyes into golden crescents. Mira flushes slightly in irritation, knowing that the boy is poking fun at her.  "But to truly understand my people, I must also understand our most overlooked citizens. How could I ever govern this city in good conscience if I do not consider social disparities such as this?" He waves a hand at their derelict surroundings but she doesn't seem very convinced.

"And how exactly will you be 'understanding your most overlooked citizens', young master?" she returns coolly, her smokey grey eyes half lidded in apathy.

Her young master continues smiling, utterly tranquil. "In the same way we try to understand all people. By watching, listening, and conversing. For today, I will immerse myself in the ways of the Slums and see what it's like to experience true poverty."

"That means-"

"Yes. I will not spend a single coin nor will I let my true status be known. And above all, I will have no maidservant."

Mira narrows her eyes, lips pursing in displeasure. "Young master, I could tolerate these conditions, if only I were by your side for this...experiment of yours. You are after all a Hwan and I need not remind you what that entails." A sharp glare whips towards an onlooker, who dares stray a little too close to her young master.

"Now, now, Mira. You know I can protect myself. I do have the best instructor after all." He lays the flattery on thick, patting his maidservant's arm. "And this won't work if I rely on you for everything, you know. Do you see anyone here with a maidservant? And anyway, how could I ever blend in with you by my side? Your presence is downright chilling."

The maidservant smiles thinly, her eyes promising death. "If you wish to blend in, then you should have gone with a more inconspicuous outfit, no?"

"Hm?" Jun frowns, glancing down at his robes, the apparel intricately accentuated with priceless golden silk. "But this is my most modest accoutrement."

"And you shouldn't use words like 'accoutrement'."

The young lord huffs, his smile turning wry as his astute maidservant picks apart his appearance and mannerisms. "Alright, you made your point. Even so, I am old enough to look after myself now, Mira. Need I remind you I turned twenty not one month ago? That is old enough to already have children, is it not?"

"...I see only one child here," she says dryly.

"One big child. Who pinned you thrice during this morning's spar, if you'd care to remember."

Mira sighs, flicking a stray lock of hair from her face. "Very well," she says, curtly. "But I will give you two hours. Any longer and I come after you."

The young lord feels a chill go down his spine. He knows exactly what 'come after you' entails. Namely, swift violence that includes a broken kneecap or two. For the sake of his citizens, Jun vows to strictly adhere to this time limit. "Two hours on the dot. I'll meet you back here."

"Very good, young master."

With that, Mira leans her back against the car and lights up a cigarette. She worriedly watches her young master eagerly set off into the thick of the Slums, the boy pausing to wave at her from a distance, before finally being swallowed up the colourful crowd of he fervently wishes to understand.