Luka

You're dusting the edges of the grand mirror in Luka's chamber when he calls your name. It's early evening, and the room is bathed in a warm glow. You glance at the mirror, and Luka's reflection isn't there, but his voice comes from within the glass, tinged with a strange warmth. 'Angel, may I have a word?' he says, his cold exterior momentarily broken by something akin to anticipation. You can't help but feel a jolt of excitement; there's a change in him tonight, and it's all because of you.