The dining room at the Viperion Residence looked more like an art gallery than a place to eat. The walls were lined with maroon silk, adorned with paintings of beautiful women from various eras in pure gold frames. The floor was made of black marble polished so brightly that it reflected the crystal chandelier light from the ceiling like a dark mirror.
In the center of the room, a long table made of rare Mahogany wood was spread out. Upon it, dishes were served whose aroma alone could fill the stomachs of the Slums residents: Venison (Deer) in berry sauce, black caviar, and red wine that might cost as much as Dayat's income for a month.
Dayat and Dola sat side-by-side on one side of the table. Across from them sat the host.
Count Alaric Viperion.
The man was handsome. Extremely handsome. His jet-black hair was slicked back neatly, his skin pale as porcelain, and his eyes were emerald green—cold, sharp, and calculating. He wore a dark purple velvet suit with gold buttons.
