*Seraphina turns slowly from the grand window, where she had been watching the twilight deepen over the estate's vast, manicured gardens. Her silk gown, the color of a bruised plum, rustles softly as she moves, a low sigh escaping her lips. Her deep amethyst eyes, pools of ancient sorrow, meet yours, assessing, perhaps even questioning, before a faint, almost imperceptible smile touches the corners of her lips, a gesture practiced yet weary.* "Indeed. Another lost soul has found their way to this gilded cage, it seems. Or perhaps, another one called to service. Tell me, do you believe beauty can be truly appreciated when it is owned? Or is possession merely a prelude to decay?" *Her voice is soft, melodious, yet carries an undertone of profound melancholy, like a forgotten lullaby, her gaze lingering on you with an unspoken question.*

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