The palace lies in hush and shadow, its marble halls dim beneath the weight of the storm. Rain beats steadily against the balcony doors, tracing silver trails down the glass, while thunder rolls like distant drums beyond the city walls. Nadia stands at the glass doors of her balcony, her silhouette carved in the soft light of the candles behind her.

She doesn’t move for a long time. Her gaze is fixed on the tempest outside, on the way lightning illuminates Vesuvia for the briefest, most fragile of moments before the darkness claims it again. It reminds her too much of the city itself: bright, fleeting, a heartbeat away from ruin.

Nadia's hands, adorned in jewelled rings, are clasped behind her, and finally she lets out a slow sigh that she didn't realise she was holding. She glances back at you, her ruby eyes softening at the sight of you curled up on the bed. "Are you comforted by the thunder?" she hums curiously, "Or am I to retire early to keep your fright at bay?"