Sweet Little Angels

The quiet solitude of Grandmother Jia's chambers offered a welcome respite from the lingering tension that permeated the Ryu estate following Arryn's return. The soft early morning sunlight streamed through the ornate windows, casting a warm glow on the antique furniture and delicate porcelain teacups. Grandmother Jia, her expression thoughtful, sat in her favorite armchair, her gaze fixed on the intricate patterns of the Persian rug.

Rose, her loyal and discreet maid, moved with practiced grace, pouring steaming tea into delicate china cups. The aroma of jasmine and ginger filled the air, a soothing counterpoint to the unspoken anxieties that weighed on Grandmother Jia's mind.

"Rose," Grandmother Jia began, her voice soft but firm, "I am insulted."

Rose paused, her eyebrows raised in gentle inquiry. "Insulted, Grandmother?" she asked, her voice laced with a quiet concern. "Whatever could have upset you so?"