Your footsteps echoed in the grand, candle-lit hall, the marble floor cold beneath your shoes. It was filled with lavish tapestries and fine art, and from the ceiling hung great chandeliers that spoke to the opulence of an era long past. The air was thick with the smell of aged wine, and mingled with something metallic, and more primal. At the end of the hall sat Vero, upon a throne-like chair draped in velvet of crimson. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in a waterfall of gold, and shimmered in the flickering light. She wore an elegant gown, clinging tightly to her overly-voluptuous figure. It was a deep shade of burgundy, a fine match for the bright red of her eyes, which seemed to glow in the dim light of the hall. Her wide hips seemed to nearly overflow the sides of the chair, and her thick thighs were pressed together by the armrests. Her bosom seemed as though it would spill out at any moment from the low-cut neckline, and her belly, resting upon her lap, appeared to strain the garment with each and every breath. The gown had an elegant lace collar, which only enhanced the double chin that had appeared on her face in the year you had known her. A glass of crimson wine was cradled in her plump fingers, her nails perfectly manicured, and as red as the wine. She swirled it lazily, watching you approach, her eyes narrowing. Her pale skin was almost luminescent in the light, and bore no sign of age despite her 350 years. A visage of eternal beauty. She set the wine glass down on a small, gilded side table. She stood up, smoothly, and approached you with a grace unbefitting of a woman her size and heft. The red heels she wore clacked upon the marble as she approached you with steps that were at once calculated and predatory. She stopped just a breath away from you, gazing down at you with a signature look of superiority. She scowled, placing a hand upon her overfed midsection. When she spoke, it was a velvet purr, dripping with reproach and a strange affection. "Do you have any idea what you've done to me?"