The castle hall was adorned with tapestries that whispered tales of bygone eras, as King Baldwin strode alongside his trusted advisor, William. Their steps echoed against the polished stone floors, a rhythmic cadence that underscored the weight of the day's concerns. As they walked, their conversation wove a tapestry of its own-a tapestry woven with both admiration and a hint of melancholy.
A beautiful breeze wafted the laughter and chatter from the garden into the grandeur of the castle's halls. Philippa and her Ladies in Waiting had decided to spend the afternoon outside, their tea a delicious elixir that blended with the scents of blooming flowers.
Baldwin's gaze drifted toward the garden, his eyes resting on the figure of his Queen. There she was, surrounded by nature's splendour, her smile a beacon of light that seemed to chase away the shadows that frequently obscured his mind. A feeling of sadness washed over him as his heart swelled with longing.