It is... beautiful. Masculine. A wingback chair, much larger than her own. Purple velvet with accents and undertones of various shades of blue. The wood is warm mahogany, polished to a deep, rich sheen. The fabric is impeccable, the frame deep enough to hide someone seven or eight feet tall within its recesses.
An enormous wingback, not a spinning wheel. Gorgeous work, fingerprints she recognizes like she knows her own lace. Handcrafted in an agony of regret, the work of one who cannot easily apologize, is quick to use a sharp tongue, but who loves... oh, who loves.