Elias straightened. "If you know why I'm here, then you know I'm leaving with it."
"It is payment for the entertainment," Denica said, sitting back down. "And it is a bribe. Tell the Guildmaster the Heart was a myth. Tell him I am a ghost story. Tell him whatever you like, as long as you tell him to never send anyone again."
But then he looked at Denica. He saw the exhaustion in those black eyes. She was a prisoner too. countess denica
"You're testing me," Elias realized. "You want to see if I'm the kind of man who would doom a city for a payday."
The chair rotated slowly. Sitting within it was Countess Denica. She was not the withered crone the rumors suggested, nor the terrifying beauty of the bard's tales. She looked strikingly ordinary, dressed in a simple grey dress, her dark hair pulled back in a severe bun. Her eyes, however, were disturbing—they were entirely black, reflecting the violet fog outside like pools of ink. Elias straightened
Elias, a master thief with quick fingers and a quicker tongue, did not believe in magic. He believed in locks, leverage, and luck. He had been hired by the Thieves’ Guild to steal the Countess’s most prized possession: The Heart of the Veil.
Enthusiasts of retro and vintage media often cite her as a significant figure from the late 20th-century fetish scene, noting that her authority and poise were central to her appeal. Tell the Guildmaster the Heart was a myth
Elias hesitated. This was a trap. It had to be. "If I take it... you die?"