"Your highness." Wei Yuan greeted.
"You smell like burned meatloaf." Khan remarked, "Keep six feet distance."
Feng Jie appeared from behind, "Your highness, she is Wei Yuan, daughter of Pope Alexia the fourth. Treating her like this—is far above the deserved standards."
"Was that sarcasm?" Wei Yuan spoke.
"Don't insult me, sarcasm is clearly above my development." Feng Jie spoke, "I can barely show a smile without getting a proper quip in, don't lower your thoughts. Wide eye glossy."
Khan snorted, "Remarkable in fashion, not impressive at all."
Wei Yuan poured wine, about to splash it on Feng Jie but upon herself instead.
"Suppose this isn't such a distraught after all," Khan spoke.