As you slowly opened your eyes, the unfamiliar room revealed itself, bathed in an eerie glow. The air was heavy with the scent of burnt embers and metallic tang, a stark reminder of the Dragon Folk's presence in the posh and elegant abode.

The door swung open with a resounding creak, and a man's voice echoed through the room like a thunderclap. "I see you're awake," Liao declared, his smile tinged with a hint of amusement as he appraised the Witchling before him. To him, you were a rare sight, the only woman he had laid eyes on in centuries, casting an aura of intrigue over the encounter.

"I hoped you managed to rest properly," he added, his voice a soft murmur in the shadowy room. With a gentle sweep of his large, slender hand, he ruffled your hair, the touch a delicate caress in the midst of uncertainty, as if trying to soothe the storm raging within.