SEVEN

•TRISTIAN•

For once, Augustine, my secretary, was true to his words. The sight of her was like a frozen moment in time, capturing a beauty that defied comparison.

Clad in a knee-length amber brocade gown that adorned her like a radiant halo, her decanter-shaped waist was accentuated like a perfectly curated Instagra*m filter.

Her waist-long black curls cascaded down her back, adding a touch of allure to her overall appearance.

The gown, cut square, elegantly showcased her ‘décolletage’ with effortless classiness, while the Grecian-inspired sleeves draped gracefully, leaving her arms bare and showcasing their flawless contours.

Her white face, somewhat fragile and intelligent in expression, was endowed with a pixie-like nose and perfectly shaped rosy lips.

But it was her hazel eyes that stole attention— a mesmerizing blend of colours that seemed to conceal unknown depths within.

In her entirety, she exuded pure perfection like a snapshot out of time.

No sculptor could have crafted a li