The Consort of the R

As the sun sets in the west, the evening glow paints the sky with a myriad of crimson hues.,After speaking, she closed her eyes, a rare weariness settling on her brow. She lay back in her chair, tilting her head slightly. Her ink-black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, save for the section pulled up and adorned with a peachwood hairpin. Her slender waist was cinched tight, the folds of her skirt billowing gently around her as she swayed slightly with the breeze. Two sashes hung from her waist, rippling in the wind.,The calming tea worked well. Just a whiff of it and my mind felt at ease. I propped up my head with one hand and lazily held a teapot, pouring myself some tea, all in a languid manner.。