The Woman From the West
In the middle of the common room inside the Redcliffe mansion sat a tall woman with a calm demeanor.
Her long black hair flowed down her back like dark silk.
Her eyes were a deep crimson, striking against her pale complexion.
There was something almost unreal about her beauty.
She possessed the kind of presence that could make a person instinctively lower their voice without knowing why.
She looked less like an ordinary noblewoman and more like a goddess who had wandered into the mortal world.
Yet there was nothing arrogant in her expression.
She simply sat comfortably, holding a cup of tea between her fingers.
A faint smile touched her lips as she took another quiet sip.
Behind her stood an old man dressed in a perfectly maintained butler's suit.
His grey hair was neatly combed.
His back was straight.
His hands were folded behind him.
Even while standing completely still, he gave off an impression of absolute discipline.
