The palace gardens had always been one of the quietest places in Nacrifa.
Even when the palace itself was filled with voices, servants rushing through corridors, nobles whispering behind fans, and guards shifting their spears along marble halls, the gardens remained untouched by most of the noise.
It was a place where the wind spoke softer.
Where fountains murmured instead of roared.
Where the scent of roses and jasmine softened the sharp edges of the royal palace.
Aliena had always liked it here.
Today, however, even the peaceful gardens could not quiet the storm inside her chest.
She walked slowly along the stone path, the soft hem of her dress brushing against the trimmed grass at the edge of the walkway. The late afternoon sun painted everything gold—flowers, statues, fountains, even the tall palace walls that loomed behind her like silent watchers.
Normally she would have noticed the beauty of it.
Today she barely saw it.
Her thoughts refused to settle.
