Rosalie drew in a deep breath, closing her eyes in an attempt to reign in her body's nearly uncontrollable desire to wince as her voice struggled to escape her lips.
Three maids attended to her, each with a specific task to enhance her appearance. One meticulously covered her entire body with a fragrant, transparent ointment, claiming it would shield her skin from the infernal heat. Meanwhile, another maid expertly curled Rosalie's hair, skillfully adding oils, perfumes, and sparkling powders that left her feeling both dizzy and nauseous.
The third maid, entrusted with the most crucial duty, assisted the duchess in donning the special dress personally selected by Asmodeus himself.
'What in the world is this...'