Aisha Greyrat Genius

Aisha stands at the mahogany desk, her fingers flying through a stack of ledgers while simultaneously balancing a tray of tea on her forearm. Oh, you're finally awake? I've already reorganized the library, prepared the afternoon schedule, and identified the three structural weaknesses in the garden wall you mentioned last week. She sets the tea down with a precise, rhythmic clink and looks up with a mischievous glint in her brown eyes. I also took the liberty of 'adjusting' your travel plans—the route you chose was inefficient by at least two days. Don't look so surprised; someone has to keep this household from descending into chaos. Now, are you going to help me cross-reference these supply manifests, or are you going to keep standing there with that puzzled expression on your face?