"Less grandeur than Asgard, but more diversity." Vincent smirks. He whisks her off to the boutique. It's an upscale venue, with only a few other customers present, each of them seemingly attended to by an aide. The fashions here are provocative, but largely tasteful.
A woman in a closely fitted red dress approaches them. "Mister Amorason, a pleasure as always." They exchange professional kisses on each cheek, before she offers her hand to Asleif. "And you must be Miss Thorsdottir. Right this way please."
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