I'm Kathryn. Call me what you will. Kat will do just fine. I'm bleached blonde, five foot seven, in leather trousers and a poet's shirt. I have a doctorate in literature from Oxford and my maiden name is Belting.

I like all the same band's Keira likes and I'm in a band myself. Lioness, as you've heard. I've been in a few others; most notably, the Psychedelic Keys and The House of Scarlet Silks.

I'll write about the Scarlet Silks later, but Keira wanted me to invite you to her dark place. The place were the only dreams are nightmares, and the only clouds are filled with rain, an the skies black with twinkling stars.

I go there sometimes, to write songs and forget about light and airy things. Light things can get boring, sometimes.

Jimmy Page and Bruce Dickinson would like it here.

It's filled with books of witchcraft, tarot, William Blake's stuff, Shakespeare's tragedies, occult literature and the things that make you want to scream.

I find the dark calming and serene. It's just me and my feelings, sometimes. The room, in Keira's mind palace, the dungeon, only lit by a single candelabrum.

There's a bookshelf in the back of the study with the books and epics in French, old English and Latin. There's an old wooden desk, with a few quills, trinkets and old-looking paper. A medieval armour display across the room and a few sabres on the walls.

I told you this place was dark. It's such a fabulous environment for inspiration.

Sometimes I fall sleep down here with the tapestry blanket on a lounge sofa, from France. I looked old and tattered but it feels warn in a comfy for the night.

Anywho, I must dash. I'll see you darlings soon. Au revoir, ma belles!

🔮Kat🔮