Epistles from the Murk - Part 7
Geranium Pavilion
Fortified City of Chuluu, Khamgi
~
"Official Lang."
The man stiffened at the soft and graceful sound of the khatun's voice.
"I figured I would find you sitting here, alone as always," she purred. "During the coronation of winter, when the bite is most shocking."
The official closed the small book he was holding and placed it on his lap, looking at to her.
Swathed in silks and furs, appearing in the image of a delicate goddess of snow, she glided ever closer before sitting beside him on the bench he resided, overlooking the frozen over lily pond. It saved him the effort of standing and bowing - not that he would've complained over such a thing.
"Your Divine Majesty," the official greeted, offering her a bow as deep as he could manage whilst in a seated position, instead.
She scoffed and waved him off.