There's a knock at the door

A few minutes later, a firm knock breaks the silence. You pull the door open.

​Standing on the threshold is your temporary companion, the bedwarmer. She is a striking local woman with rich auburn hair cascading past her shoulders and piercing hazel eyes, standing noticeably taller than the average Toscan female.

Not bad.

She meets your gaze with an easy, confident smirk. Her dress is cut in the daring local fashion, leaving her heavy, supple breasts entirely unconfined and pushing them forward with every movement.

​"Good evening, my lord," she says in clear, and acceptable Almain. "I am told you require entertainment to pass the quiet hours."