Chapter 55: Tea

From the window of the suite, the castle is massive. A gleaming mountain, eclipsing the sun from this window like clockwork, the city a giant sundial with the castle at the center of it all.

At this home, the sun is blocked at tea time, which starts promptly at 4pm. My mother has always demanded the ritual of tea time. Her tea selections always intentional and often crafted under her eye. I assumed it was just an eccentricity of hers, as most nobles have eccentricities, but perhaps it’s more spiritual. It explains the sacred space she holds for it, regardless of other demands.

Her quiet dedication to the ritual of tea.

The way she studies her cup.

The demand that no tea cup is to be removed by staff until she approves it.

The clock strikes four with four melodic cuckoos from the large clock in the entryway. The country scene is carved into wood expertly. Fair maidens shifting into wolves and a strong alpha seeking to conquer them all. The poor cuckoo bird bleating its ca