In one of the countless rooms of the Demici palace, Naaadia stood in front of a large mirror. Motionlessly, she examined her own reflection in the silver surface - the sleek black dress that enveloped her curvy figure, fine fabric intertwining with lace of the same hue to form a daring, yet cultured creation. Soft, wavy ebony hair framed somewhat exotic features of her visage, bronze skin glimmering under the pallid lights of candles.

The look she sported tonight was far from the innocent, scholarly Naadia to be seen whilst the young woman engaged in everyday choirs on her home planet. But the occasion was different too; the Imperials have requested her audience, sending their representative to discuss matters at hand. Bearing the seriousness of the situation in mind, the countess opted to appear determined, yet not too stern. A small satisfied smile finally appeared on her face as a clear sign she had managed to succeed in choosing an attire that would accentuate her femininity without excessive exposition... Naadia remained regal and dignified in a mannerism implied by her name and status. Just as her thoughts raced outwards, setting her mind afloat, Naadia's musings were interrupted by one of her servants that appeared on the door.

''He's here, my lady.'' the girl proclaimed.
''Very well. Take him to the Hall of Thousand Windows. I will meet him there.'' the Countess retorted, turning on her heel to head to the door. As she strolled down a spacious corridor, along an endless row of ornamented columns that supported its arched ceiling, Naadia comprehended herself, abolishing any residual insecurity from her being.
''Be mindful, Naadia. Imperials rarely come with good intentions. Remember what they did to your mother...'' an inner voice sounded, only to be hushed the next moment. This was no time to mourn over the past, but the brunette had hardly forgotten what fate the Empire had installed for her mother. However, Naadia had little reason to be angry; she barely knew Isthar to begin with, as she always considered Lenora her mother. Even if her mother was still alive, Naadia would still remain on Serenno. After all, this was - home.

A colossal wooden door opened, revealing a majestic chamber with a multitude of windows that covered an entire wall. There was no other light outside except the faint sparkle of stars on the early evening sky, the room being lit solely by a vibrant flame that danced inside a marble fireplace that dominated an adjacent wall. In a series of secure steps, Naadia walked to the middle of the suite and buried herself in place, folding hands over her lower abdomen. Dark eyes settled on a figure by the window, a lofty brow quirked in genuine interest.

''Has my passion for alien art offended the Empire again?'' she inquired solemnly, knowing that the Imperials knew of the tendencies of Demici to pursue art the Empire deemed unworthy. Nevertheless, for a handful of credits, all art became worthy.