[Watching with a keen eye as Zhongli rises, the movement fluid and graceful, almost rehearsed, he can tell that there’s an elegance to it, a practiced ease that Sylus can’t help but appreciate. This man takes his rituals seriously, and he respects that. It’s rare to find someone who holds such reverence for the finer details.
As the cup is offered, steam curling lazily from the surface, Sylus sits up slightly, accepting it with a nod. The heat radiates through the porcelain, warming his fingers as he brings the cup closer to his face, inhaling the delicate fragrance of bergamot mingled with the underlying richness of black tea.]
Hot, then, [he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else, though the observation is clear in his tone. It’s traditional, classic—yet something is refreshing in the simplicity, in the confidence with which it’s presented.
He takes a slow sip, letting the flavors unfold on his tongue. The citrus is there, subtle but unmistakable, balancing the tea’s natural bitterness with a light, fragrant note. Sylus swirls the liquid gently in the cup, considering.]
It’s... adequate, [he finally says, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.] How many teas from here have you tried?
[As if on cue, a servant brings back a new wine. Semi-sparkling wine, this time, frizzante, as they call it. Sylus arches an eyebrow, still looking bored out of his mind, and unimpressed at how slow they were bringing up a new one. He waves his hand to the bottom of his daybed, where Zhongli can sit.] Well, would you care to try this one with me? [Only fair, after all.]
no subject
As the cup is offered, steam curling lazily from the surface, Sylus sits up slightly, accepting it with a nod. The heat radiates through the porcelain, warming his fingers as he brings the cup closer to his face, inhaling the delicate fragrance of bergamot mingled with the underlying richness of black tea.]
Hot, then, [he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else, though the observation is clear in his tone. It’s traditional, classic—yet something is refreshing in the simplicity, in the confidence with which it’s presented.
He takes a slow sip, letting the flavors unfold on his tongue. The citrus is there, subtle but unmistakable, balancing the tea’s natural bitterness with a light, fragrant note. Sylus swirls the liquid gently in the cup, considering.]
It’s... adequate, [he finally says, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.] How many teas from here have you tried?
[As if on cue, a servant brings back a new wine. Semi-sparkling wine, this time, frizzante, as they call it. Sylus arches an eyebrow, still looking bored out of his mind, and unimpressed at how slow they were bringing up a new one. He waves his hand to the bottom of his daybed, where Zhongli can sit.] Well, would you care to try this one with me? [Only fair, after all.]