From the high ceiling of an unfamiliar room, excessively well-fed babies soaring among cotton clouds on small wings tenderly looked. Either because of the unpleasant skin tone that evokes thoughts of pink piglets, or because of the non-childish dimensions of the kids, this art looked extremely repulsive. However, the rest of the bedroom turned out to be quite ordinary and even beautiful. In places. Sunlight gilded the milky-white, stuccoed wall panels, the wind played with heavy blue curtains, and in the corner, by the door, sitting on a banquette, a girl in a peach dress was dozing.

So, we are already in the Empire. In a palace. And it’s better...