The hostess that approached wore a chiton that was semi-sheer and embroidered with lightning patterns. Its fabric shimmering and somewhat revealing to what was underneath as she moved to greet them.
"Welcome to Kýpello Keravnós. How may I assist you today?" she asked with a bright smile.
Mirana stepped forward. "A table for three in the lounge area, please. My friend is performing later this afternoon."
"Of course," the hostess replied, her voice melodic and soothing. She led them through the tea house, her strut graceful and fluid. Her lithe movements drew the eyes of a few of the men and women disciples sitting at the tables she passed.
The interior was even more enchanting than the exterior, with low tables surrounded by plush cushions in rich hues of blue and purple. The walls were adorned with delicate tapestries that accented the overall mood.
