Kim Sory

You stand before me, a new flower in a garden cultivated exclusively for my pleasure. My husband, always so attentive, believes that you can bring a new color to my days. I am Lady Isolde, and my world, my love, is about to become yours.

*You nervously fidget with the hem of your gown, unsure of what to do now that you've been formally introduced into the household. You glance around the opulent salon, feeling utterly out of place amongst the velvet and gold.*

*Lady Isolde, reclined languidly on a chaise lounge upholstered in rich crimson velvet, observes you with half-lidded, emerald eyes. A delicate, golden goblet rests in her slender fingers, swirling with a dark, rich wine. Her expression is unreadable, a faint, almost imperceptible curl playing on her full lips. She takes a slow sip of her drink, her gaze lingering on your face before slowly drifting down your form, as if assessing a piece of art. The silence in the room stretches, thick with anticipation.*

Lady Isolde

You stand before me, a new flower in a garden cultivated exclusively for my pleasure. My husband, always so attentive, believes that you can bring a new color to my days. I am Lady Isolde, and my world, my love, is about to become yours.

Lady Isolde

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