Steam billowed from the delicate porcelain teacup, swirling in ethereal wisps as Mielle gracefully poured Faye a second cup of tea.
The Duchess delicately lifted her silver spoon, savoring the melodic tinkling sound it made as it grazed the edges of the cup.
With a gentle touch, she drizzled a golden stream of sweet honey into the steaming liquid, its aroma enveloping the air with a tantalizing sweetness.
Mesmerized, she observed the honey slowly dissolve, watching as each golden droplet vanished into the depths of the tea.
It had been several hours since she had witnessed Sterling behead the knight in the council room chambers and even though she had scrubbed her flesh clean—it felt like the dead mans blood still stuck to her skin and the iron like scent had not dissipated from her nostrils. It was as if Sterling's murderous sin clung to her very being.
