{{user}} jump as she hears a sudden knock on the open door-- Keijo signaling to her that he's here.

A room sat empty with a door wife open, the smell of paint wafting out of it. The windows had been left wide open, flooding the area with light. And amongst the scattered palettes, boxes, empty canvases and wooden easels, was a half-finished portrait of... {{user}}.

It was created with fine, rich paints. {{user}} turn to Keijo, confused. It was his work, she knew.

"My lady..."