A Walk Among Blossoms
Ania burst out laughing so hard she nearly fell from her chair. Sasha tried to hide her smile and failed. Even Victor let out a quiet, amused breath.
For the first time in a long while, laughter filled the courtyard again—unforced, genuine, alive.
And as the maids bowed and began to carry away the dishes, Victor stayed a moment longer, his gaze lost in the sunlight reflecting off the fountain. The rippling gold shimmered across the stone, catching in his eyes like a quiet reflection of everything he'd thought he'd lost.
Slowly, the laughter faded. The courtyard returned to its calm rhythm—the soft clink of plates being stacked, the whisper of skirts brushing the stone, the murmur of a breeze shifting through the leaves.
Anna glanced at Victor, her eyes holding that maternal mix of warmth and insight that could see through every mask. "Victor," she said gently, "why don't you take Sasha for a walk? The garden's at its best this time of day."
