In the private room, the atmosphere was one of subdued luxury. Soft candlelight flickered, casting a warm glow on the ornate furnishings.
Deep hues of red and gold adorned the walls, creating a regal ambiance. Darian's mother, occupied a chair at a polished wooden table, her legs crossed with an air of nonchalance.
Her silver hair cascaded in waves, a stark contrast to the deep lines etched on her face.
Despite the wrinkles, there was an undeniable strength in her gaze. Darian entered the room, wearing a mix of regal attire and an air of vulnerability.
"You look beautiful as ever," Darian said kissing her cheek.
"Beautiful? Don't try to sweet-talk me, Darian. You know better than that," she retorted, her eyes narrowing in mock suspicion.
Darian chuckled at his mother's response. "I'm serious, Mother. You're as elegant as ever."
