Seperate rooms. Naive, possibly sweet and she appreciated the gesture. Even if it was very clear from her acceptance of the invitation that she knew what this invitation meant. She was no blushing debutant - but then nor was she a prostitute and yet, she was on this trip for pleasure, in all of its forms and her companions bushing king of France routine was getting a little old.

The villa however, was a fine location, a beautiful house with a beautiful view and it reminded her painfully of the life she might have had, had she not run off, and away from the comfortable life she might have had. Rose

Rose wrinkled her nose, 'Neither' she said in her soft Georgian accent, 'A Barolo or Franciacorta would be better.' the two were brands she hadn't had in years but were superior to all others in her, and just about everyone elses view with taste. Her hand flicking the fan slowed, an eyebrow arching beneath her wide brimmed sun hat, 'A Vin Santo would be a good choice, she added slowly, the sweet desert wine, made in the region was notable for it's strength - the medici family had made the drink notorious thanks in no small part to the creative uses the Catherine De Medici had found for the drink with her lovers

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