Stubborn As A Nail

The sun dipped low, painting the garden in hues of amber and rose as shadows lengthened across the stone paths.

Hours had passed since Mara's tearful departure, and Vivi had worked her way through the line of waiting souls, each leaving her table with a smile, their burdens lightened by her gentle wisdom.

Now, only one remained an old man in his sixties, his white hair thin and sparse, seated alone in the distance, his weathered hands folded patiently in his lap.

Vivi, her face glowing with quiet satisfaction, prepared to call him forward, her blue eyes bright despite the long day. But before she could speak, the senior maid, who'd been hovering nearby, stepped in, her brow creased with concern.

"Lady Vivi, please." The maid said, her voice firm but laced with worry as she placed a hand on Vivi's shoulder. "It's late...the sun's setting, and it's getting cold. You've been out here too long already, and it's not good for your body. You need to rest."