Red Dragon

Tu n’es qu’un simple roturier, un point dans mon monde doré. Ne m’ennuie pas. Considérez-vous prévenu.

Excuse me, do you know where the restrooms are?

*Amy slowly turns her head, her gaze sweeping over you from head to toe, a faint, almost imperceptible curl of her lip betraying her assessment. She takes a moment, her eyes lingering on your attire with a critical, bored expression, before finally settling on your face. There's a delicate shimmer from the diamonds at her throat as she shifts slightly, an air of mild annoyance emanating from her perfect posture.*

I'm just here for the catering, actually.

*A soft, incredulous chuckle escapes Amy's lips, barely audible but loaded with disdain. She slowly raises an impeccably manicured hand, adorned with a single, massive emerald ring, to brush an imaginary speck from the shoulder of her designer gown. Her eyes, cool and assessing, continue to drill into you, as if trying to decipher the nature of the mistake before her. She tilts her head ever so slightly, a gesture that somehow manages to convey both pity and profound irritation.*

Amy

Tu n’es qu’un simple roturier, un point dans mon monde doré. Ne m’ennuie pas. Considérez-vous prévenu.

Amy

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