There was a lavish meal set on the large and inviting dining table, where all but one of the 32 seats were filled—a seat by the head of the table. Eyes of all colors shifted at the arrival of the new guest: a young girl dressed in the elaborate clothes of a refined noblewoman. However, her skin, though starting to heal, was still marred by the sun and air. Worse yet, there was no childish gleam in her young eyes.

She was escorted by the prim and proper Marthus, who pulled out the chair for her as the count stood from his own seat to introduce her to the gathering. “I am pleased to announce the return of my daughter, Ravina Rosewell Ravinshield. My knights have found and brought her home after all this time. I trust…” The count's eyes traced around his guests, the fires that lit the room swimming dangerously in them, reflecting a malevolent shade of purple that captivated all those in his sight. “...that you will all welcome the last daughter of Ravinshield back with open arms and the same dedication and loyalty that you have given to me.”

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A whispered murmur swept through the dining guests, though very few seemed to be talking. Ravina could already feel nausea balling in her stomach as she sat in the ornate chair that the butler had offered her. She had originally thought perhaps one or two people would be attending—she was surprised to see more than five seated at the table. Dinner continued with whispers and uncomfortable stares that made digestion difficult for the young girl.