White Sparrow Tavern, private room.
The light, sweet, and slightly cool mint fragrance intertwined with the hot aroma of the dishes, drifting leisurely in the air.
The dark, glossy floor reflected the intricate and irregular textures under the illumination of the glass crystal lights on the ceiling, made from high-grade oak wood sourced from the depths of the Mist Forest.
Delicate, soft velvet cushions were placed on each seat beside the table, and the flawless silvery-white cutlery reflected an expensive sheen.
If not for the noise from the hall, reduced to a thin layer of white noise after layers of soundproofing, seeping through the deep cracks of the door.
It would be difficult to associate this luxuriously extravagant room with the words "White Sparrow Tavern."
The difference between inside and outside the room was like that between a high-end restaurant and a street food stall, closing the wooden door completely separated the two worlds.
Actually, it's not surprising.
