After a light breakfast,
Rosalind stepped out of the grand dining hall with a quiet weight pressing on her chest.
Yesterday still lingered like the remnants of a dream—one that had ended, and yet refused to let her go.
Hoping to ease the unease in her heart, she decided to take a walk around the castle grounds.
Perhaps, at the very least, the fresh air would bring her a small measure of peace.
Outside, the gardens stretched wide beneath the morning sun.
Golden light spilled across the stone paths like woven silk.
Here and there, gardeners moved carefully among the hedges and flowerbeds, trimming and pruning—dressing the garden in a fresh, delicate grace.
Rosalind wandered slowly, taking in the soft rustle of leaves and the quiet hum of the earth.
A few servants passing by dipped their heads respectfully, and she responded with a warm, gentle smile—bright as sunlight filtering through frost.
