When the angle between Rivienne's head and the body was similar to the angle between the wall and the floor she was on, Neja spoke. "A pillow, my lady?"
"... A coffin... maybe," Rivienne said.
Yet her flirting with the empty space did not stop. The cigar between her fingers was smoking and the incense that burnt around the room made the sunlight misty. She did not go out last night, changed her nightgown thrice and now she was lying on the floor of her studio which was supposed to be a dance floor.
Neja brought a pillow and Rivienne sat up quickly. "My neck hurts," She said messaging it with the hand she held the cigar. Neja was afraid of burning that precious hair as she squeezed her revealed shoulders. The robe had fallen from her.
