A frown marred Azalea's forehead as she strained her eyesight in the dark room. There was no sight of Delaney.
"Delaney," she called out again and she heard the door to the bathroom creak open. Delaney walked out, dressed in a black robe and holding a burning candle in her hands. She leaned on the doorframe, raising an eyebrow at Azalea quizzically.
"I just came to check if you needed any help with the clothes." Muttered Azalea, trying to be as natural as can be. She had always been a good conversationalist, but she didn't know what it was about this woman that made her a little nervous. Maybe it was because of her cold aura and intimidating eyes?
Delaney still didn't speak and Azalea started to feel a bit impatient.