It would seem the fair maiden had finally been let out of her tower – for the moment, at least. Sulpicia roams the halls of the Palazzo, pail, powdery hands trailing along the stone walls, committing them to memory as though she hadn’t already thousands of times before. 

“Ah—” she pauses, a demure smile gracing porcelain features when she comes upon Volterra’s latest guests. “Rosalie and Emmett, is it not? What brings you to our humble abode?"