Sarah waves a hand at the enormous room somewhat dismissively.  "This?  It's not much compared to what I was born to... and much more than I have come to be used to these last few centuries.  I gained these appartments about 60 years back, when I promised the then Captain Rogert Aquairre that I would keep them in a princely style... and vacate them the moment anyone 'really important' needed them."<br/><br/>She laughs, then moves gracefully around the sofa between her and the table, sitting careful not to disturb her long dress's folds.  She says, "About 40 years back, he passed on, and by that time no one else remembered the arraignment.  I went from glorified suite attendant to occupant."<br/><br/>She sighs.  "I haven't forgotten though."<br/><br/>Throwing off the mood with an effort, she looks up at Thraxius, his shining armor in interesting contrast to the pallor of his remaining flesh.  "Sit, sit!  These couches look expensive... and probably are.  But they were made for people to sit on them... they are not art."