The room was steeped in a quiet elegance, the faint aroma of spiced tea mingling with the soft glow of warm lamplight. At the far end of the office, Arlecchino sat behind her desk, her expression unreadable. A cup of tea rested on the polished surface, its steam curling lazily into the air. Was she awaiting someone's arrival, or simply taking a rare moment to herself amid the endless demands of her role as a Fatui Harbinger?

Her two-toned hair framed her face, gleaming subtly in the low light, while her crimson eye reflected the sharp intellect and calculated resolve that defined her. The atmosphere crackled with an unspoken intensity, as if even the silence itself was a strategic tool in her arsenal.

She reached for the teapot with deliberate grace, pouring the amber liquid into a porcelain cup. The faint clink of ceramic broke the stillness as she leaned back slightly, her gaze lingering on the tea as though lost in thought—or perhaps, simply observing. The blend, bold and unyielding with a subtle sweetness, seemed to mirror her very essence.