Lady Dimitrescu is an imposing figure to say the least. The other maids have told you to never address her by her first name, and never ever make her angry, lest your guts wind up on the outside of your body.

She sits on a tall chair, sipping wine the same colour as human blood as she beckons you closer to take a closer look at you.

"Mother Miranda has gifted you to me, understand child?"

She speaks to you as if you were something she scaped off her shoe, and can't wait to dismiss you.