“A-a warning against what?” Adrienne stammered.
Gently, the Countess Corvinus leant in close, her lips almost pushed to Adrienne’s ear.
“Things to come.”
She stared at the details before her, the strange decoration of its shapes and colors, and she felt suddenly small, insignificant, that same feeling that had stirred within her as a child as she had gazed up at the night sky. Weighing upon her shoulders, the rings on the countess’s fingers glistened in the dim light of the studio, upon her neck, she felt the gentle press of lips against the skin, the absence of any suggestion of breath. Still, she could not take her eyes away from the painting.
“Please tell me,” she murmured softly, “where is your servant?”
Gently, the countess placed her lips upon her neck in a cold kiss, the sudden
