The resplendent armor reflected the flickering torchlight as if mirroring the beating heart within.
Racks of various weapons lined one wall, while opposite, there were only two enormous portrait paintings.
The room's mistress appeared somewhat youthful, but her cold eyes were as sharp as steel. A pale blue dress outlined her young, slightly curved figure, her dignified posture like that of a freshly ripened forbidden fruit. The sound of skin and silk rubbing together stirred the most primal desires.
The young girl flashed a radiant smile, watching the man in the center of the room who was observing the portraits.
"How is Cousin Glenda doing? I've been quite concerned about his well-being, hoping that Dreya's barbaric atmosphere hasn't troubled his noble health."
Upon hearing the young girl's sweet voice, the man, cloaked in a magnificent robe, smiled back in greeting.
