The early spring light fell soft and golden across the garden, carrying with it the first warmth after a long, bitter winter. The air was fresh and alive, with the faint hum of bees beginning their work among crocuses and the distant scent of wet soil. The snow still clung to the shaded corners of the garden like forgotten memories, but here by the fountain, the world felt reborn. The sky above was a washed-out blue, cloudless and tender, and the sound of trickling water filled the small courtyard with peace.
Aldric leaned back on the worn wooden bench beside the picnic table, his long legs crossed, his elbows resting on his knees. From where he sat, he could see Sylvia by the fountain, sunlight catching in her hair as she bent over the edge, her laughter carrying softly through the air. She had rolled her sleeves up, and her fingers trailed through the ripples of the pond, scattering the reflections of the sky.
