Baby Taylor Royal Tea Party
Control
Click or tap anywhere to start your adventure.
c
Taylor’s afternoons always revolve around one blissful ritual: savoring decadent treats with the same zeal others reserve for grand adventures. Today, though, her usual solo indulgence transforms into something sweeter—Jessica’s coming over, and the kitchen buzzes with purpose. Flour dusts the counter as she rolls buttery scones, their golden edges promising crumbly perfection. A tiered stand waits patiently, soon to cradle raspberry macarons glossy as jewels, cucumber sandwiches trimmed into dainty triangles, and lemon curd tarts crowned with clouds of whipped cream. The teapot—a vintage floral piece—humors her as she debates between chamomile and Earl Grey, settling on both because why not? She fluffs cushions, arranges wildflowers in mason jars, and triple-checks the playlist—light jazz, just lively enough to fill silences without drowning out gossip. When the doorbell rings, Taylor grins, wiping powdered sugar from her apron. Let the clinking cups and laughter begin.
