This evening found Ragnar alone in one of the quieter parts of the garden, the same one he usually snuck off to as a child.
The space was tucked away from the busier sections of the grounds, sheltered by stone alcove and flowering vines that had begun creeping back to life with the arrival of spring. The air was mild, carrying the scent of damp earth and blooming flowers.
Morana arrived some time later. Not because she had followed him, but because this was one of the paths she often walked in the evenings whenever she was still in the palace. It was a beautiful sight to behold even in winter and she had indulged herself by returning here again and again.
She spotted him immediately.
For a brief moment, she hesitated. An old fear stirred inside her, the lingering worry that her presence might still drive him away, that she might look up and find him already leaving simply because she had arrived.
The thought lingered only for a heartbeat before she firmly pushed it aside.
