This opens for me with just a light whiff of tabacco on incense, then dries down to like an incense-y warm breeze coming at you over the desert, where you might get a hint of powdery floral coming through. The sillage was rather poor, but one thing that I really like about St. Aignan perfumes is that they don't overpower. She captures just a hint or whisper of an ingredient, not overpowering but intriguing. To do that you can't have a loud, bold, long lasting fragrance, so it's a trade off. These are fragrances to delight yourself, not everyone around you. These are intimate fragrances. They don't scream "perfume." That's what makes them awesome to me. They're very appropriate for the office.
The mint tea opening of this is more a fleeting sweetness, like the heavily sugared tea favoured in the Middle East. The spice melange is neither sharp nor gourmand sweet but rather of spices used over many years permeating the fabric of a shop or dwelling. I love this fragrance, it may not elicit 'wow what are you wearing?' but it is exotic without shouting about it. I may be influenced by the associations of the name with the tale and song by Sting of the same name, but it is a haunting, evocative scent.