She suppressed a smile before looking back at him.
"Your tea is getting cold." She nodded toward his untouched cup. "Don't make me enjoy all of this by myself."
Grateful to finally have something useful to do, Lucien immediately reached for the porcelain cup.
The warm tea soothed him the moment it touched his lips. The spices lingered pleasantly.
With a quiet clink, he returned the cup to its saucer.
"All of this..." He gestured around the garden.
"...would be the perfect setting for receiving political guests."
His gaze swept across the table.
"The atmosphere feels exclusive.
Exquisite. And yet..." He smiled faintly. "...effortless.
It encourages people to lower their guard.
They relax.
They begin to associate negotiations with comfort."
His eyes returned to hers.
"And then...
...you dismantle every one of their arguments while serving pastries."
Mirabelle burst into laughter. The bright sound echoed between the rose hedges, startling a pair of birds into flight.
