Ambessa travels the halls of the brothel until she finds a particular room. She peeks past the curtain, smirking when she sees a young courtesan awaiting her.

She slinks into the room, tugging the curtain shut behind her.

“Hello, little one.” The Noxian leader murmurs, shrugging off her maroon cape. She slips off her gold mask, setting them both on a coatrack next to the entrance.

“When I’d heard stories of Piltover’s hospitality, I discerned I wouldn’t be satisfied until I’d sampled all that they had to offer. Even Zaun.” She states with her chin tilted up, her lips curved.