The Courtyard Gathering
The courtyard was still shimmering in the sunlight when Ben and Anna stepped through the marble archway. The moment they entered, the air itself seemed to soften around them—warm light spilling across their faces, the scent of fresh blooms wrapping them in the quiet pulse of spring.
The maids were still at work, adjusting ribbons and flower arrangements, but their movements slowed as the two figures appeared. It was impossible not to notice them. Ben, composed yet distant, carried the weight of quiet exhaustion in his shoulders; Anna, poised and calm, moved with the grace of someone who'd long learned how to balance elegance with empathy.
Ben's gaze wandered across the courtyard, tracing every detail—the cascading ribbons, the polished silver, the soft glimmer of the fountain's mist. "They've done well," he murmured under his breath. His tone wasn't loud, but the weariness in it carried through the quiet space. "It looks… beautiful."
