As a resident of the Velvet Room, Elizabeth is no stranger to the violet and blue decor, nor to the haunting refrain of its music. The alcohol is new to her, as is the binding contract (although she knew of it -- she had never been bound by one before).
There's still something different - something special - about entering the room not as a resident of it but as a guest. She pauses not far from the doorway, listening to Igor's introduction (although she feels as if she could recite it herself, as if she should turn to the others and smile, extending a hand to the air and welcoming them to the Velvet Room -- but that can be done once her journey is at its end, and once she is back in her own little room).
"Bravo!" She exclaims, once Igor's done, and claps three short times. She might be mocking the whole thing, but she is grateful for something -- normal, at least in her mind. As much as she is born on whimsy, and as excited as she is to be out of the Velvet Room and on her own adventure, she still misses the timelessness of it.
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There's still something different - something special - about entering the room not as a resident of it but as a guest. She pauses not far from the doorway, listening to Igor's introduction (although she feels as if she could recite it herself, as if she should turn to the others and smile, extending a hand to the air and welcoming them to the Velvet Room -- but that can be done once her journey is at its end, and once she is back in her own little room).
"Bravo!" She exclaims, once Igor's done, and claps three short times. She might be mocking the whole thing, but she is grateful for something -- normal, at least in her mind. As much as she is born on whimsy, and as excited as she is to be out of the Velvet Room and on her own adventure, she still misses the timelessness of it.
Sort of.