The room I saw through the door was spacious, but not too spacious, and as opulent as everything else in this place. There wasn't a lot of furniture: just some couches, some chairs, and an empty table in the middle, at which Avarice sat. There were a lot of paintings, though, adjourning the walls, and a small window covered with thick curtains.
She didn't wear the dress I saw her in the last and only two times we've met. Instead, she was dressed in a homely velvet robe, cyan, of course. The waves of her chestnut hair looked a little damp. In this room, this woman looked every part like some nineteen century noble… Except for, you know, vampire-pale skin and slit pupils.
