(Warning: Child Abuse)
"Miss Silverfang?"
He calls her name for the fifth time this morning. But as expected, his mistress continues to remain unresponsive.
Maridawn Silverfang sits at the fauteuil chair, facing towards the French window as her lifeless eyes continues to stare off-spaced to own world.
Her long silver hair is now neatly tied in an elegant bun. Delicate curls are neatly tucked by the embellishment of the white-gold flower hairpin. Her long red dress reaches to the tip of her ankles, embellished with white chiffon layers at the bottom.
Anyone can say this is a piece of art. A painting that has come to life.
However, he doesn't have time to admire her beauty for another reason.
Dimitri is just at the doorway, a glum look perpetuating on his face as his shoulder leans on the door for comfort. His eyes haven't left the concubine even for a second.
