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Donielle blinked when she saw the ceiling overhead. She stretched gingerly, feeling the tug on her ribs. She frowned, before she sat up. She looked down at her ribs and saw the rather elegant stitching there, thread sewing the skin back together. Her flesh was red around the stitching; not with infection persay but irritation at the intrusion. She reached a hand up and ran it along her hair, feeling the long strands loosely braided. She threw the covers off, letting the cool hotel air hit her naked body. She let her legs dangle from the side of her duxiana bed. "Slowly, my dear. You have been asleep for some time." came that unique accent. Educated and smooth as silk. Just like the dapper suited gentleman before her. She smiled a bit at her former husband as he draped the black silk kimono robe over her shoulders. "Thank you, James." She said softly as the man held out a hand to her. She took it before she slowly rose.

"What a horrible stain. I suppose Ill have to best that out with a rock of lime. All over foolishness." Miss evers muttered in dismay. Donielle let out a hiss as March lifted his chin. "Mind your tone and words before the Lady of the House, woman. Beloved laundress or not. I will not have you speak of my Queen in such tongues!" March snapped as his black eyes sparked with fire. Donielle smirked as the frumpy maid began stripping down the bed linens. Donielle drew her robe closed and tied it loosely before she walked towards her vanity. "I believe you will be most pleased with the craftsmanship of your wounds. I had Sally stitch them closed. For such a junkie, she does have remarkable skills in mending torn flesh." March said as he began to unbraid Donielles hair and run a tender comb through it.

Donielle could do nothing but look at her reflection. Despite the two spectres in her vision, she knew none reflected back to her in the silver glass. No. To the mirror, and the world, she sat alone in the Hotel Cortez. But she knew....oh she knew quite well that was all a lie. Merely part of the facade that was her Palace. Just like the hinged walls and fake doors scattered throughout the grand hotel.

This Hotel was a Hellmouth. A portal to some. Purgatory to many. And Eternal Damnation to most. But Home is where the Heart is, or so the mortal saying went.

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