The evening sun descended slowly beyond the western hills, bathing the royal estate in warm shades of amber and crimson while a gentle breeze wandered through the vast rose garden, carrying the delicate fragrance of blooming flowers across winding stone pathways where countless generations of queens had once sought comfort during seasons of peace as well as moments shadowed by uncertainty.
Elara walked without attendants beside her, one gloved hand trailing lightly across velvet-soft petals that bowed beneath her fingertips before rising once again with graceful resilience, and although her expression remained calm enough to satisfy any watchful courtier, quiet contemplation lingered behind her emerald eyes because every conversation held since Lucien Noctis entered Regina had left another unanswered question resting upon her heart.
