"Why is it that you hide away, my dear?" a deep aged voice resounded throughout the stone castle.
Each wall was a sickly grey as each and every single stone collected to build this castle was dyed with the lavender blood of the demons forced to collect them.
"I'm not hiding... you're just poking my pride! Im not some kind of toy for you to have your way with, Asmodious..." a voice like the chime of a bell rung back.
This dainty voice belonged to an equally pure woman, Tazmirel of the ancient seven spirits. Although she has mentally grown quite old, she appeared to be in the prime of her twenties. Her face appealed to Asmodious as much as the lavender blood of her distant kin that was painted upon the canvas of the sickly stone walls of his castle, which is quite nicely if you couldn't tell through these mere words. As if she had taken control of the space she took up, light would bend itself to make way for her movements while shadows would pull back as she drew near them, making a path for her every step.