Us

The sunlight filtered softly through the leaves as I walked toward the garden, the delicate scent of roses and jasmine wafting through the air.

The Montrose estate gardens were undeniably beautiful, their paths winding through vibrant blooms and shaded alcoves, but the serenity of the setting did little to calm the knot of tension in my chest. 

Elara was waiting for me. 

When I finally spotted her, she was seated on a stone bench near the fountain, her golden hair catching the sunlight in soft waves.

She wore a pale lavender dress, the fabric flowing gracefully around her as she traced her fingers along the edge of the bench. Her posture was relaxed, but her expression carried a hint of something heavier, something uncertain. 

I steeled myself, slipping into the role I'd carefully crafted over the past weeks. I wasn't here to feel; I was here to act. 

"Elara," I greeted, my voice soft as I approached.