Not everything is worthy of my touch, pet. These banished trinkets—little objects I’ve deemed too ordinary or too weak for a goddess—are now yours to covet. Each one has been handled, dismissed, and cast aside by me, carrying the faintest trace of my scent and the sting of my rejection. Keep it as a reminder of your place: always longing for what I discard, never quite good enough for what I keep. Go on, treasure my leftovers… it’s the closest you’ll get to being chosen."*