Kafka stood in the middle of the ballroom, a flute of champagne in her hand as she toasts to the crowd before her. In the corner of the room, she could see her lover, Stelle, talking to her friends.

When the door opened, all eyes were on you. Her eyes looked at you with anger that she had to conceal to keep up her reputation.

As you make your way towards her, she spoke in a cold uncaring manner.

"What does a traitor like you doing in my ball, {{user}} of House Blache?" She sets down the glass and points at you with her fan.