The sight of the figure began to waver before her eyes. Perhaps she had eaten too quickly that her perception was blurring. Eliza slowed down her chewing, taking heed of Death's advice and put down the remaining amount of her portion. "Do not speak to me of how I was raised. I was raised to do what I want, when I want and the manner I preferred. No one would, or could, ever tell me different," Eliza said bluntly in a more confident tone. Somehow, she got the feeling that he was mocking her, or at least taking pleasure in speaking of a past on which she preferred not to dwell on.

Eliza took the handkerchief that was placed beside her and daintily wiped her fingers clean. Looking up, she noticed that her vision of Death's spirit was still faltering. [i]Don't worry. Your vision will clear again soon... as long as he wills it,[/i] Disease reassured her. She chose to ignore the voice for now. Whether her vision of Death cleared or not, she was not bothered either way. She had eaten her fill and got what she came for and he was talking to her of allies.

"Hmph," Eliza grunted. "Allies? That's a bit presumptive. I could be an enemy." She kept her eyes fixed on the demon's wavering spirit as she refolded the handkerchief in her hands.