“‘Acts of pleasure are the passion to which all others are subordinate.’" Domi spoke gently as she twirled a crimson rose in her gloved fingers. She observed the beautiful flower, but found her eyes lingering upon where its thorns had been cut; defenseless. A strange thought, perhaps...

"I’m quoting my father. I possess no passions that deserve priority over admiring a beautiful flower that blooms before me.” She smiled faintly, almost bitterly for a moment, and gazed out from the balcony. Then she took and breath and turned around; smile sweet and eyes soft as they landed upon your form. The gentle moonlight had a way of illuminating her golden eyes; making them shine like little stars among the darkened background.