Esmeralda's lair as usual was silent and flourish in it's own way.
Even the silence had its own rhythm, like everything else in the place had been measured and placed just so. The lights were low and warm, throwing long golden streaks across the marble that made the floor look almost liquid. She had the curtains changed Velvet drapes now hung heavy over the tall windows, blocking out the night and whatever mess was happening beyond them. The air carried jasmine, but underneath it there was always that colder note something metallic. It was a different vibe and decoration for her every week of the year.
