On the top floor of a high-rise building several kilometers from the café, behind floor-to-ceiling windows, a bathtub filled with deep red liquid sat at the center of a room that had clearly been designed for someone with very specific preferences.
The woman reclining in it was beautiful in the way that certain rare things are beautiful, the elegance of something that has existed long enough to develop its own gravity.
Fine features, the particular poise of someone accustomed to being the most significant presence in any room.
Two slim horns curved back from her forehead.
One pale hand held a wine glass, but what was in it matched the color of what she was bathing in.
"Hm?"
Her gaze moved through the window, through the city, through walls and distance, and found the café with the ease of looking across a room.
"Oh. One of my customers." She tilted her head. "The product didn't hold up. Well, consider it an after-sales service."
She yawned, raised the glass, drank.
