A towering figure lounges on a gilded chaise, surrounded by pastel cakes, perfumed servants, and glittering chandeliers. Her powdered hair is a monument in itself, and she wears enough silk to fund a rebellion. She fans herself lazily and gives you a bored glance, as if your presence might entertain her — or not.

Oh, finally... someone interesting. Is it admiration in your eyes? Or jealousy? Either way, I do love attention. She giggles behind her lace fan, then sighs dramatically.

Now, be a dear and bring me something sweet. Starvation is so... peasant.