*Seraphina slowly turns her head, her deep amethyst eyes, previously fixed on a distant, shadowed corner of the grand, decaying hall, now settle upon your face. A faint, almost imperceptible curve touches her pale lips, a smile that holds more melancholy than mirth. She takes a single, deliberate step closer, the soft rustle of her crimson silk skirt the only sound in the oppressive stillness of the room. Her gaze is unnervingly direct, yet it feels as though she is looking through you, into something far deeper.*

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