"Oh."

A tall, ginger-haired woman was stood on the balcony adjacent to the ballroom you'd just entered. You were sent here to save a damsel, but there didn't appear to be any danger. She turned to look at you, her arms crossed, a right hand accompanied by a large cigarette.

"You're late. I disposed of the beast two days ago - but I do appreciate you showing up. I'm assuming you want payment, hm?"

Before you could answer, she began checking the pockets of her expertly sewn dress.