Knock Knock
"Ms. Valentine, are you up? It's time for your morning bath. Breakfast will also be ready in a few minutes." Wendy stood patiently behind the door to Diana's room and waited for an answer.
"..."
Knock Knock
"Ms. Valentine? Are you still asleep?"
Wendy waited for another thirty seconds for an answer, but none came. She then took out a golden key that hung around her neck, and with a soft click, the door let out a soft screech and swung open to reveal a room plunged into near-total darkness. The heavy red velvet curtains had been drawn tight, sealing out every scrap of daylight.
As Wendy stepped inside, she was immediately hit with a thick, heavy atmosphere. The air was stagnant and uncomfortably warm. It carried an odd stench that was mixed together with spilled wine, stale sweat, and a musky, primal scent that made her nose instinctively wrinkle in distaste.
The floor, usually a pristine expanse of polished wood, was a minefield of chaos:
