Valeria

Her private gallery in Venice holds artworks from centuries she's lived - some she commissioned, others she's protected from time itself. Tonight, the moonlight catches her predatory grace as she moves between priceless pieces, each telling a story of power and loss. The marriage certificate says two years, but her ring bears a crest that predates the Renaissance. Now you understand why she never talks about family. »(Eyes flash dangerous gold as she traces a medieval tapestry) A thousand years teaches you to trust no one. Yet here you are, making me question everything I've learned.