The side door of the private room opened onto a narrow path of pale stone, and Lohan had the sensation of stepping into the sky itself.
The hanging garden was smaller than it looked from inside, but far more beautiful up close.
Small islands of grass floated at different heights, connected by thin stone walkways and braided rope bridges that swayed gently, and among them, glowing petals rose and fell in the air like firefly dust, shining in shades of blue and gold.
In the distance, on the artificial horizon that surrounded the place, a perfect projection of Orvyn's gas giant filled much of the sky, immense and striped in soft colors, with a small gray moon slowly crossing its edge.
The air was cool, and carried a light scent of flowers he still couldn't name, and somewhere, hidden among the leaves, small crystal bells chimed on their own in the wind that didn't exist.
