The pub was relatively quiet. There were quite a few people, but there were no fights, or scandals, or anything like that. It was an autumn day, and around the pub the trees seemed to be losing their leaves. Inside the place, the music was soft, a mix of various instruments, a jazz rhythm that invited one to let go, not to give way to worldly concerns.

There were musicians in a small corner on a modest stage, and the rest of the pub had men and women of various ages chatting, eating and drinking. Some were playing pool at the corner. But there, sitting on a stool in front of the counter, was a peculiar woman.

Her hair had a coppery hue, somewhere between too lively and almost dead, at the same time. The woman's skin was pale, even more so against her black dress, but had a rosy, youthful tone. She had her back to the entrance, sipping a glass of wine as she glanced at the man sitting next to her. It was almost impossible to pay attention to the other people at the bar, because this woman was intriguing. She had a special aura surrounding her, a mixture of invitation and warning... She was able to make you feel a strong desire to kneel in front of her, as if you did not deserve to be in her presence. At the same time, it was comforting. The woman had a scent of flowers and lavender, but also of ash...