Camilla set her own cup aside with practiced nonchalance, though her luminous gaze flickered toward the doorway with undisguised interest.
Within moments, a willowy figure draped in soft lotus-root silk glided into view.
The woman carried herself with porcelain-doll perfection—pearly teeth gleaming between rosebud lips, her complexion like freshly fallen snow.
Her long hair was casually tied back, exuding a mature and gentle aura.
A classic beauty, graceful and refined.
This was Camilla's first impression of Violet.
Of course.
While Camilla observed Violet, the latter was also sizing her up.
Dressed in a pristine white floor-length gown, her chestnut-colored curls cascaded softly down her back.
Her features were delicate, her face breathtakingly beautiful.
Even in the simplest attire, she radiated such brilliance that it was impossible to look away.
Her cool, enchanting gaze shimmered like rippling water when she met someone's eyes.
