The garden had bloomed with quiet magic.
Under the early morning light, dew clung to the petals like scattered pearls, the scent of jasmine and ashwood drifting lazily in the air. The sky above was pale lavender, touched by the gold of rising sun, and the air was gentle—warm where it touched, cool where it whispered.
Seraphine sat on the stone bench nestled between two flowering trees, her bare feet brushing the grass.Valen sat close beside her, the morning sun casting a warm glow across his features. His hand was on the small of her back, a subtle reassurance, but one that grounded them both.
They were in the garden again—this sacred space where peace seemed possible, even amidst the turmoil of their kingdom. The flowers bloomed vibrantly around them, their colors more vivid than any o
