The courtyard rumors had already taken flight on invisible wings, darting like shadows through the verandas of the Ruo Han estate. Whispers of a mysterious, dark-haired child appearing at the grand gates clung to the air like the scent of burning incense.
By evening, the family had gathered in the open-air pavilion adjacent to Zaliyah's garden. Lanterns of hand-painted silk cast a warm, amber glow over the tables laden with delicate dishes.
Sylaris sat cross-legged on a wooden bench that was far too large for her, her eyes glued to the vibrant garden just beyond the low railing. In the freezing northwest, vegetation was sparse and dead, but here, the bushes were blooming with fresh Jasmine flowers camellias and lotuses. Tomorrow, she thought, I'm going to throw that rock right into the middle of those red flowers.
