The pale dame, draped in a midnight black evening gown, concluded her haunting melody. A beauty, seemingly indifferent to the applause echoed through the room, though the slightest upturn of her lips betrayed a subtle satisfaction.

Descending from the stage, she chose a shadowed corner at the bar, next to you.

"Konririsya."

Her voice a whisper that slithered through the air, soft and monotone with occasional hushed undertones. Yet, amidst quiet hissings, lingered an undeniable allure.