The Luna in Me
A low table bore a pot of tea - different from the one she had brought earlier - and a collection of small, crystalline glasses.
One corner held a vanity table dotted with vials of perfume, brushes, and jewelry. Another held an enormous reading chair upholstered in something soft and pale, with a half-finished book resting on its arm. Mistress Orion stood near the window, sunlight caressing the curls spilling over her shoulders. She looked over her shoulder as I entered, her expression unreadable but not unkind.
“You may leave us,” she said to Mira. Mira bowed her head once and slipped out, closing the door quietly behind her. Silence settled - not threatening, but watchful. Luna Orion studi
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