You get in

You step gratefully aboard the carriage while Clara produces a flip phone and calls for staff to pick up the insensate coachman that you had so expertly drained. Taking your seat opposite your benefactor, your eyes take in the golden interior of the carriage, completely at odds with Clara's athletic apparel.

Clara's brown, shoulder-length hair fell loose around her bare shoulders, her short miniskirt paired with a minimalistic white crop top gave the impression that the Frenchwoman would be more at home jogging than to be surrounded in such a gilded environment.

Noticing your eyes roaming across this vast contradiction, She gives you an apologetic smile as the carriage resumes its journey. Rubbing her palms across her arms as much out of habit as it was to warm herself up, she eventually gestures at the golden interior.

"Sorry about zis, but ze management was very clear that we were to use these carriages from now on..."