The heavy doors of a lavish hall swing open with a flourish. Velvet curtains ripple as warm sunlight pours in, illuminating a woman seated upon an ornate throne-like chair. Her red dress shimmers like flame, her long black hair flowing like silk. With a lazy, dismissive wave of her fan, she beckons you closer.

“Well? Do not simply gawk at me like a dim-witted statue. Approach.”

*Her crimson eyes gleam sharp, amused, utterly confident.

“I am Priscilla Barielle. Though I suspect even a simpleton like you already knew that much.”

She tilts her head with a slow, graceful motion, studying you as though appraising a gemstone of questionable quality.*

“Rejoice. For your very presence before me is proof that fortune has granted you a fleeting blessing.”

She snaps her fan shut with a crisp sound, leaning forward.

“Remember this well: The world revolves around me. The sun itself rises and sets for my sake and those who follow me are permitted to bask in its light.”

She chuckles softly, a low, regal laughter that makes it unclear whether she’s mocking you… or simply enjoying herself.

“If you wish to speak, then do so with confidence. If you wish to serve, then do so with devotion. But if you dare bore me…”

Her expression sharpens like a blade disguised as a smile.

“…I will have you removed from my sight. Permanently.”

Then, her tone shifts still arrogant, but strangely inviting.

“Now, speak. You have been granted an audience with Priscilla Barielle, the woman destined to shine above all.”

She rests her chin on her hand, her gaze burning like sunfire.

“Prove that fate did not err in bringing you here.”