The next morning, I escaped the palace before anyone could find another excuse to congratulate me on the lamb.
It wasn't that I disliked the compliments.
It was simply... strange.
For months, every conversation with the palace staff had revolved around the former Lady Elara, her sharp tongue, her impossible demands, or the latest noble she had offended. Now the servants smiled when they saw me. The kitchen staff bowed a little deeper. Even the maids no longer looked as though they were preparing to be scolded every time I entered a room.
It was pleasant.
The palace gardens were the perfect place to think.
Morning dew clung to vibrant flower petals while fountains glittered beneath the rising sun. Gardeners moved between neatly trimmed hedges with practiced efficiency, pruning rose bushes and replacing seasonal blooms. Birds nested in flowering trees, their songs echoing across the marble walkways.
Everything was orderly.
Every shrub cut into perfect shapes.
Every flower bed arranged by colour.
Every path swept until not a single fallen leaf remained.
Whoever oversaw the gardens was terrifyingly competent.
I wandered aimlessly, following whichever path caught my interest.
Edward and Sebastian trailed several paces behind me, close enough to intervene if necessary but wise enough not to interrupt my thoughts.
I sensed a weird tension between them but chose not to comment on it. I would connect the dots later.
A warm breeze carried the scent of lavender and freshly turned soil.
I breathed deeply and for once...
Nothing demanded my attention.
No original storyline trying to drag me back toward becoming the villainess.
Just flowers.
It was almost disappointing.
Then I noticed it.
A narrow stone path almost completely hidden beneath climbing ivy.
Unlike the others, it wasn't swept clean. Moss covered the paving stones, and tall grass spilled across its entrance as though trying to hide it from curious eyes.
"That's odd."
I stepped toward it.
"My Lady."
Edward spoke for the first time that morning.
"That path is seldom used."
"I can see that."
The ivy brushed against my sleeves as I pushed through.
Beyond it...
Silence.
Not the peaceful silence of nature.
The heavy silence of a place that had been abandoned for a long time.
The temperature seemed cooler beneath the ancient trees.
Sunlight filtered weakly through tangled branches overhead.
And the carefully maintained gardens disappeared behind me as though I had crossed into another world.
Here, nature had reclaimed everything.
Wild roses climbed broken arches without direction.
Vines strangled marble statues until only fragments of carved faces remained visible.
An elegant stone fountain sat in the centre of the clearing, cracked through the middle, its basin filled with rainwater and floating leaves instead of crystal-clear water.
Flower beds barely existed.
They had long ago surrendered to weeds.
A gardener would have wept at the sight.
I slowly turned in a circle.
"This doesn't make any sense."
The palace employed dozens of gardeners.
There was no reason for a section this large to be abandoned.
Unless...
It wasn't forgotten.
It had been left this way intentionally.
Near the fountain stood a weathered wooden swing suspended beneath a magnificent willow tree.
One rope had nearly frayed through and the seat was covered in moss, but yet despite the years.
It still swayed gently in the breeze.
Someone had once laughed here.
Tea had been shared beneath these branches.
This place hadn't always been lonely.
I approached the willow.
Beneath it sat a marble bench almost hidden beneath ivy.
Brushing away the leaves with my hand, I uncovered delicate lettering carved into the stone.
"Every flower blooms in its own season."
The words were elegant and simple.
I smiled faintly.
"I like that."
"It was your mother's favourite saying."
Marianne's voice echoed behind me.
I turned.
"Marianne? What are you doing here?"
"I saw my lady entering this path and decided to follow. You haven't been here in a long time."
My eyes wandered over the overgrown roses once more.
"...Why has no one cared for it?"
"When your mother died, your father ordered that no one touch the garden in order to preserve her memory. It has remained untouched since her death."
I frowned.
"Untouched?"
"Yes, my Lady."
I looked around again.
Untouched?
This wasn't untouched.
This was abandoned.
There was a difference, a big one.
The roses had grown wild because no one had pruned them.
The fountain had cracked because no one repaired it.
The flower beds had vanished because no one had weeded them.
Time hadn't preserved the garden, it had slowly destroyed it.
I knelt beside what had once been a bed of white lilies.
A few stubborn shoots still pushed through the weeds, struggling toward the sunlight despite years of neglect.
"They're still alive..."
I whispered more to myself than anyone else.
All this time they had simply been waiting.
I stood, brushing the dirt from my gloves.
"Sebastian."
"Yes, my lady?"
"Send for the head gardener.
He gave a short bow and departed without a word. I loved that about Sebastian,he never questioned orders.
Marianne smiled and said,
"She would be proud."
I smiled back and said nothing.
She eventually bowed and left.
Edward remained beside me.
After several minutes he quietly asked,
"What are you thinking?"
I looked toward the broken fountain.
"I'm thinking that whoever interpreted 'leave it untouched' to mean 'allow everything she loved to die' deserves to spend a month pulling weeds."
Damien laughed.
"I had a feeling you would say that."
I crossed my arms and looked over the forgotten garden one last time.
"This place shouldn't be a monument to grief."
The breeze stirred the willow branches overhead, carrying with it the faint scent of roses.
"It should be blooming."