The pungent smell of the fire hit her nose sharply, and Lila covered it with her hand. Instead of the scent of roses and violets expected in a love nest, she smelled of smoke, ash and burnt wood mixed with mold. A dense fog covered the empty window openings like curtains. The entire floor was strewn with shards of glass that had burst from the heat. The wind opened the next door of the suite in front of Lila. Before her was a real boudoir. The Rococo style was determined by the girl from the burnt firebrands. This was all that remained of the luxurious furniture. Strangely, two objects in the room were saved from the destructive power of the fire: a small sofa on graceful curved gilded legs and an oval mirror above it. Looking into the mirror, Lila recoiled in fear. A gloomy man with a deathly pale face came out of it, as if from a door...