His House (5)

ALANA

Like every other place in the house, the guest room was beautiful. Lined with gold tapestries, chandeliers and white linen curtains that prolonged right to the wooden floor and flapped as wind wafted inside through the open window, carrying the smell of daises. As soon as Knight departured, I flew over to the window, pushed aside the curtain as I saw what I'd been dying to see ever since I'd stepped foot into this room.

Outside was a garden—paved in the loveliest manner with roses of all types neatly planted in spherical beds. Daises, lilies, tulips, violets and a bunch of other rainbow colours I wish I could decipher. Sweet, lavender aroma glided straight into my lungs, drawing a deep, pleased breath from me.

Who knew flowers could be so refreshing.